The Unlikely Team
by IndigoSnake16
Summary: Four completely unrelated individuals find themselves in a strange new universe where they will eventually have to work together to stop the collective destruction of their relative worlds. (Sephiroth, Vegeta, Lang, and Ziggurat 8) [Four Universe X-Over: Final Fantasy VII, Dragon Ball Z, Legaia 2, and Xenosaga]
1. Awaken in a New World

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 1: Awaken in a New World_

 **He examined his blade once again as boredom began to overtake him in its lasting grip.** The sword was extraordinarily long and thin. Though it served as an extremely useful weapon to Sephiroth, it could also be extremely annoying. It wasn't as if he was fighting someone every waking minute of his life. Getting vanquished by Cloud—his arch nemesis—repeatedly was not his idea of fun. He enjoyed testing his skills against a worthy opponent, but it would have been nice if he could reclaim his winning streak. Claiming to bring about destruction and actually doing it were two different things. Being the token "bad guy" was not all it was cracked up to be especially since he didn't see himself as being one.

His plans of grandeur had been continuously foiled time and time again by the same Cloud who was so inferior to him that he wasn't really much of a match. The second time had been won purely by luck. To think that he could be defeated by a glorified sword move was ludicrous. And yet it had happened. That was clearly not the end of the fight and Sephiroth knew that he would find a way back to the living.

But not this soon and with no explanation. Someone or something had brought him here to this unfamiliar world and Sephiroth wanted to know just who that person was. Here lied the way to his ultimate goal even if that goal mirrored Jenova's will—he realized that it was his true desire. The cosmos was a vast place even for a god like him.

Although, he did not feel much like a god at the moment. He didn't feel as powerful as he usually was—instead he felt oddly vulnerable. It was exactly the reason that he was quite on edge at the moment despite his calm exterior. The Masamune felt a little heavier than what was proper and even more he didn't feel in control anymore. Feelings like these were supposed to be foreign to such an ascended being like Sephiroth yet there they were present and undeniable.

Just then he heard a sound. It was very slight, though he could tell that it was a footstep. Then he heard it again and again. Patiently, Sephiroth waited until the intruder was two paces behind him. Then suddenly within a millisecond, Sephiroth not only stood up from his sitting position, but also spun around and thrust out his blade. Luckily, Sephiroth had measured right—his blade only nipped the skin of the intruder. The blade was at chest level of the newcomer.

"Odd that you should sneak upon me in such a way" Sephiroth asked in his characteristic low, serious tone.

At that moment, Sephiroth sized up the new individual of which was a male. He appeared to be around sixteen. His hair was a deep black as was his eyes though Sephiroth also caught a glint of red in them. He wore a red and gold jacket that was currently open and revealed a softly muscled stomach and chest—he was definitely young. The thing, however, that caught his attention was the elaborate crimson tattoo that ran down the right side of his chest. He wore a sword at his side and his hands were covered with black leather fingerless gloves.

The youth raised his hands up in a sincere surrender signifying that he did not want to fight.

"I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression. I woke up this morning and found myself in this forest. You are the only other person I've seen."

Here stood an extremely imperfect being that, even now in that brief moment of meeting, feared him. Sephiroth found that he fancied this reaction—at least he could exert control over some part of this strange circumstance. His guard, however, had not lowered at all.

"I suppose I could say the same, but it is not the first time I have woken to a place entirely foreign to me."

"My name is Lang by the way," he said before a deafening silence could sabotage their conversation

"Sephiroth," the tall swordsman said as he finally sheathed his blade.

Introductions were so far away from the swordsman's everyday activities that he found that he was no good at it. Besides, it wasn't often that he met a person who didn't already know him. There were far too many distinguishing traits about him to ever forget who he was and what he stood for.

Another bout of deafening silence threatened to interrupt things, but once again Lang deflected its advance. "So, you're a swordsman as well?"

"Among other things" There was a beginning of a grin working on his face.

Sephiroth wondered when the teen would run off in utter fear—he gave it a few more minutes if the kid had any sense at all.

Lang's eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion with Sephiroth's last statement. "I'm sure you're a great swordsman—I wouldn't dream of dueling you."

Lang was acutely aware that this conversation was going nowhere and that the only thing that they had in common was the fact that they both happened to wield a sword. One glance at Sephiroth's incredibly long sword made his own broad sword seem rather insignificant. Sephiroth's blade just seemed so much more durable and powerful even though Lang's sword had served him quite well in tight situations. Not only this, but Lang felt like a complete midget in front of the other. He saw no reason, though, to run. As long as Sephiroth was willing to talk then Lang felt as if all was well.

"And how did you come to such a conclusion?"

"Let's just say, I know when I've met my match. Besides, I'm a bit of a rookie."

"I can tell." Sephiroth was only vaguely impressed. Lang insisted on intruding on his blissful solitude and Lang seemed rather oblivious to his imposing aura. It was only right that he asked a rather burning question of his own. "Are you headed to somewhere in particular?"

"No. I'm just bored out of my mind. At least, however, there's someone to talk to." Lang gave the other a courteous smile.

Sephiroth turned away from Lang as he did this, "Don't fool yourself into thinking that since we're in the same boat, our friendship is inevitable. Be careful of who you choose to trust."

"I suppose I'm a bit naïve, but would you rather that you were alone?"

"This forest," Sephiroth said slowly, "Eventually it will end. If one was to walk in a particular direction that person would predictably break free of the forest. Don't you agree, Lang?"

"Sure, I can believe that."

Sephiroth started off, unconcerned about whether the other would follow or not. Lang, of course, trailed the other close behind. Eventually, Lang built up the courage to walk side by side. Sephiroth truly was an intimidating presence.

* * *

 **Vegeta found himself in the same forest, though in his case, boredom was not his main concern.** Since he woke up in the forest that morning, he had eaten nothing and there seemed to be nothing in his surrounding that was even close to being edible. He paced around on the leafy ground angrily. It angered him that food seemed to be the only thing his mind would focus on, there was something a lot bigger happening now. Obviously, this was not a dream. He had pinched himself before and not only did it hurt, but he also drew blood—this was reality. Sadly, this reality lacked food.

There was a tree near Vegeta and just then his fist shot out forcefully at it. Instead of snapping the tree in half as he expected, the tree merely shivered briefly under the impact. Venting his innate anger on inanimate objects was a bit of a pastime for Vegeta and it always ended up with the object getting the worst end of the stick. Trees didn't just tremble under his wrath—they fell.

"What?" Vegeta asked angrily, presumably to the tree.

He jabbed at the tree once again, this time using even more strength. The tree shook a little more.

"What is this thing made of?" Vegeta questioned incredulously.

Vegeta threw even more punches at it and he received the same result. Not to mention that his knuckles were beginning to redden with irritation. His anger was building as the stubborn tree seemingly spat in his face or at least according to Vegeta's perspective.

"Fine! I'll show you tree—you won't be standing for long!"

His hand shot out and he attempted to charge a ki blast. However, the ki blast would not form no matter how hard he willed it. His eyes remained trained on his hand for long seconds before finally putting it back down. He was so used to the energy flowing through his veins coming visibly forth that his mind could not register his failure to do so. There was something terribly wrong. Where was that warm flow of energy? Why did it seem so nonexistent? It was almost as if someone had stolen a part of his very being. For the first time in what felt like literal centuries, he felt utterly vulnerable. He took a rather heartfelt fist to the stubborn tree

"Damn it all. Have all my powers left me?"

If he couldn't pull off a ki blast, he knew that he also could not power up. He didn't even try to attempt as much. Of course, this too also included his ability to fly. This, however, he did try. Flying was something that had come naturally to him. Surely this ability couldn't be absent from him. Despite this conjecture, his body would not follow his commands and he remained standing on the ground. With a huff, he decided to climb the tree midway and then jump off of it to see if this inability was true. He soon found himself crashing uncomfortably into the ground. This was when he became aware of another presence. He had been so concentrated on himself that he had not noticed anyone else. On second thought, since all things that required ki was off limits, it was no surprise that he had sensed no one approaching him. He would simply have to rely on his natural abilities as a Saiyan that did not have anything to do with ki consumption. His knowledge of combat was eternal—only that was impossible to steal from a Saiyan.

"Who are you? Show yourself." Vegeta commanded as he stood up from his embarrassing fall.

The footsteps that he heard immediately afterwards were heavy and extremely noisy—to him at least. Furthermore it sounded metallic. Slowly, a short haired blond man came from around a tree and approached the other cautiously though he made all the noise in the world. Vegeta noticed then that from his stomach down his body was composed of metal. One hand was gloved while the other one was completely mechanized. Vegeta looked directly at the other's face. His small, serious eyes were blue and his mouth straight and unexpressive. If anything, the man wore the plainest expression that Vegeta had ever witnessed on a human.

"I have shown myself," the man said in a predictably plain but shockingly deep voice.

"Yeah, so you have. Why were you spying on me?"

Vegeta was hoping that the fact that he pretended to have known of his presence for awhile would surprise him but the other's expression did not indicate as much.

"I would have shown myself sooner, but seeing a stranger who spends his free time attacking trees quickly changed my decision. It did not seem very logical."

"What are you—a robot? An android?"

The other shook his head, "No, I am a cyborg."

"Hmph. Same difference."

"And what are you? A human would have experienced a great deal more pain after attacking a tree as you did."

"I'm a Saiyan. A Saiyan Prince by the way."

"A Saiyan Prince, you say?" Ziggurat was motionless for a moment and then responded moments later, "My records show that there was never an existence of this particular race."

"Well, you're not too far from the truth," Vegeta reassured, noting that the Saiyans were indeed a dying race though ironically being known for their resilience. "So, have you been here long?"

"We have not established our names," Ziggurat reminded the other.

"Alright since you want to know so badly, it's Vegeta."

"Ziggurat 8. Because of your claim to an unknown prince hood, would that not make you Prince Vegeta?"

"I haven't been called that in so long," Vegeta said distantly, "Vegeta would be fine. Besides, it sounds better when I say it."

"And that would be when you're referring to yourself."

"Yeah. So?"

"Do you often refer to yourself in third person?"

"Not often, but every once in awhile…" Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed at this. "I feel as if you're scrutinizing my sanity—what's with all the questions?"

"It's not often that I come across someone so close to being legally insane."

"What did you call me, you robot?" Vegeta's eyes stole a glance at the tree. "For your information, under normal circumstances, that tree would not be standing right now."

As usual, the cyborg's expression was hard to read. It was difficult to tell if he was convinced of his explanation or not.

"Hmph. Whatever," Vegeta said quickly.

"I have been here since morning—if I may answer your previous question."

"Yeah? Well, me too. I guess you wouldn't know how to get out of here, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"You're the logical one. What would you do next?"

"I would first map out the area."

"Map out the area, huh. And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Well, since there is no previous map of this area—we have to explore it first."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"Is that so? It seems you're not as illogical as I once thought."

"I like to surprise my enemies," Vegeta said with a grin.

Once again, however, Ziggurat's facial expression showed no signs of surprise or amusement. Vegeta grumbled at this—it reminded him incessantly of the blonde android by the name of 18.

The two soon took off in a general direction. Vegeta imagined that the other knew the exact direction they were going and that Ziggurat was already vigorously scoping out the scenery and creating a very accurate map. That was fine with Vegeta as far as he was concerned. What he was not comfortable with was the silence. Vegeta found that unless spoken to, Ziggurat was content to remain silent.

"I just noticed something," Vegeta said suddenly, "This forest—it's far too quiet."

"Or could it be that you like to talk?"

"No, not that," Vegeta said with a slight edge to his voice, "The birds, the squirrels—you know, wildlife; everything is too still."

Ziggurat stopped walking when Vegeta said this. Vegeta did the same.

"You are right. There are no sounds."

The only thing that made any type of noise was the soft rustling of leaves caused by the continuous zephyr passing over them.

"It makes me think that this place might not be reality," Vegeta said pensively.

"That is hard to say. The environment is real enough, but there are certain aspects that contradict this. If you notice the trees, all of them are identical all the way down to their cellular composition. The air, though realistic, is far too clean. In an idealistic world, the air could probably match this quality, but I have never come across the likes."

"It's either one or the other," Vegeta said stolidly.

"Or an extremely advanced virtual reality."

"There's just no way," Vegeta said walking over to a tree to touch it. "It _feels_ real. I think I'd be able to sense if it was a fake."

"I believe that it _is_ real and so are the countless other identical trees. There may be a chance that there is another presence at work here."

"If there is, he picked the wrong person to mess with."

"So you assume this person is a 'he'?"

"No, but it's easier to just say that than 'this person' all the time—we'll find out the actual gender soon enough."

"I see," Ziggurat replied with little pretense.

The duo continued on through the forest as there was little else they could do for the time being.

* * *

AN: A bit of an abrupt ending, but when I wrote this eons ago, I wrote in a continuous fashion without any chapters. Anyways, let me know if you're interested in seeing what happens next or if this entire idea is utterly stupid. 'Til next time!


	2. To the Victor Goes the Spoils

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 2: To the Victor Goes the Spoils_

 **Sephiroth's movement was near silent and it made Lang's trained stealth movements seem loud and clumsy.** In Lang's defense, the forest floor was littered with dried, crunchy leaves and twigs. It didn't help that Sephiroth became harder and harder to keep up with and showed no signs of slowing up. Lang knew better than to ask for a slower pace so he continued behind the tall swordsman as best he could. At first, Lang's breath had been slow and measured, but now he breathed freely. It was some time later when Sephiroth came to an abrupt stop of which the panting Lang ran headlong into the stoic Sephiroth. The other turned his head to watch Lang fall onto the ground.

"Are we stopping?" Lang asked as he looked up at an amused Sephiroth.

"Do you see those two up ahead?"

Lang stood up and looked to where Sephiroth was pointing. He had to strain his eyes to make out the two dots in the distance.

"So I guess we're not the only two here."

"It would seem."

There was an odd expression on Sephiroth's face that Lang found to be unsettling.

"They could know something that we don't," Lang mused.

"You mean a way out of here? I doubt that."

"How do you know?" Lang asked, not ready to assume that there were no answers to be gained.

Sephiroth began his moderately swift pace towards the others. Lang quickly picked himself up and followed despite his unanswered question. He wondered how long he could keep up—he was already lagging. Lang realized suddenly that Sephiroth hadn't seemed tired in the least.

In no time, Sephiroth caught up to Ziggurat and Vegeta. Lang arrived a few moments later, noticeably out of breath. He was glad for the rest.

Vegeta grew tense upon first laying eyes on Sephiroth. One look at Lang who looked more like Sephiroth's lapdog gave Vegeta all he needed to know by way of first impressions. Both Lang and Ziggurat remained quite passive.

"I suppose you two came to be in this predicament under the same circumstances," Sephiroth said letting his eyes rest on Vegeta.

This one seemed brave, Sephiroth thought. He wished silently that Vegeta too was a pushover just as Lang had been, but there was something utterly different. Sephiroth grimaced at his defiant expression—he'd have to break him. That didn't seem too hard of a task considering that Vegeta held nothing that even vaguely resembled a weapon.

"Same circumstances, as in simply waking up in this place?" Vegeta asked.

"That would be it."

Vegeta didn't like his tone—he felt as if he was being belittled in a plain, obvious fashion. "You don't know any more than I do then."

"I find that hard to believe," Sephiroth responded with words filled with double meaning.

"If there's something you know, spit it out already," Vegeta said as he crossed his arms.

Sephiroth could immediately sense the vehemence from Vegeta. He grinned at this, "No."

"You bastard—you don't know anything so just cut it out."

"We believe that there is someone else behind all of this," Ziggurat stated as he sensed Vegeta's temper rising and along with the tension.

Anyone could tell just by looking that Vegeta was easily ticked off. This along with his distinguished musculature would cause any sane person to believe that he was not a stranger when it came to fights.

"Of course there is," Sephiroth said, "Is there anything else you'd like to add, cyborg?"

"There would be no reason to." Ziggurat discovered at that moment that Sephiroth was systematically reading their minds as if it were an open book. A cold fear ran through Ziggurat and he suddenly wanted to be as far away from Sephiroth as he could.

Sephiroth looked over at Ziggurat as if he had just realized that he existed, "There isn't."

"Looks like someone has some secret, elaborate plan to get out of here. Care to share it," Vegeta stated indignantly.

"Now why would I be wasting my time talking to the likes of you if I had such a plan?"

That was the last straw—Vegeta had grown tired of listening to his double meanings. If there was anything Vegeta hated more, it was of others doubting his worthiness. And, of course, when Vegeta felt that his superiority was not understood by all, he would declare his lineage. "Because you realized how stupid it was—and decided you wanted to take it up with the Prince of all Saiyans."

Ziggurat glanced over at Vegeta with concern as he wondered why he would declare such things in front of a complete stranger.

"And what would a Saiyan be? An inane human?" Sephiroth asked.

"Tch, that would be a race far superior to that of a mere _human_ ," Vegeta snapped, "Consider it an honor to be in _my_ presence."

"Is that so?" Sephiroth replied with a bit of edge to his voice. At the same time, he unsheathed his long Katana known as the Masamune with his left hand, "Let's see if your bite is as tough as your bark." Sephiroth knew a challenge when he heard it even if it was not explicitly voiced—besides, Vegeta seemed eager to die.

"Oh you'll see," Vegeta declared moving almost gracefully into his fighting stance as if second nature.

Sephiroth did the same.

"Vegeta," Ziggurat said in an urgent tone, "Are you sure it is wise for such actions?"

Vegeta turned his head to the ever logical Ziggurat, "We Saiyans are a warrior race. It is never good to underestimated me and I never back down from a challenge—I'm the Prince of Saiyans."

Seeing as there was no way to put any sense into Vegeta, Ziggurat distanced himself well out of the way.

Noticing Ziggurat's retreat, Lang decided that this was a good idea. He turned to Sephiroth first. "Sephiroth, be careful," Lang said quietly. Without waiting for a response, he too moved a safe distance away from them.

Sephiroth glanced at Lang briefly and then returned his gaze to Vegeta.

"There is something you need to know about me also, _Vegeta_. I am Sephiroth, the chosen one and born of a race capable of annihilating the entire solar system if I so please."

"Yeah right. No one's ever heard of you before. Guys like you come a dime in a dozen."

The fight started immediately afterwards. Sephiroth was determined to be on the offensive as he moved at inhuman speeds to strike Vegeta down quickly. Vegeta, however, had other ideas as his small, lithe body escaped every attempt at his life by the absurdly long Katana. Sephiroth wizened up quickly when he realized Vegeta's speed matched his own. He opted to surprise him by teleporting behind Vegeta, but that ability was infuriatingly inoperable. Sephiroth's swordplay became exceedingly elaborate so that he could confuse his opponent. While in Sephiroth's eyes, Vegeta's fighting style became easy to read; in Vegeta eyes, Sephiroth's movements were unfathomable. Eventually, Vegeta received a few cuts from Sephiroth's incessant sword swipes. This was when Vegeta knew he had to separate his opponent from his weapon. Vegeta suddenly changed his fighting tactic and came directly at Sephiroth despite his immense sword. Sephiroth was immediately thrown on the defensive as he received a few aggressive blows to the face. He tried to slice down on Vegeta's head, but each time Vegeta would sidestep swiftly and go for the obvious opening. There was a moment when Sephiroth thought he had successfully chopped down on Vegeta's head as he felt the Masamune meet flesh, but all at once his wrist became twisted in the most uncomfortable position. Vegeta had managed to breakthrough Sephiroth's defenses for just a few moments to try and wrestle Masamune from his hand.

"Why you!" Sephiroth yelled infuriatingly.

To Vegeta's surprise, Sephiroth used his right hand to throw a nice solid punch to the side of his face and sent Vegeta reeling. Sephiroth was on Vegeta in a second this time using both hands to come down on the other. Vegeta rolled out of the way just in time and then sidestepped when he sensed another blow coming. It surprised Sephiroth a little as he did this. He was quickly growing irritated by Vegeta's elusiveness.

"Do you plan on fighting me anytime soon," Sephiroth asked Vegeta who was a good distance from him.

A trail of blood crawled down the middle of Vegeta's forehead. Sephiroth had indeed struck Vegeta's skull to some extent. Vegeta watched as the other grinned.

"Shut up! Have you no honor? You dare attack an unarmed man with that ridiculous sword of yours?"

"You chose to fight me. I hope you're not regretting it now."

Vegeta growled at the other, "Not a chance!"

This time Vegeta moved into another fighting stance completely different from the one before.

"You'll soon learn your folly, Vegeta."

With lightening speed reflexes, Masamune cut through air towards Vegeta's abdomen. Sephiroth was unsuccessful. Vegeta used this opportunity to dash under the blade and jam his fist into the other's stomach twice. Sephiroth doubled over in apparent pain. Just as he did this, Vegeta's knee smashed right into the other's chin. Now it was Sephiroth's turn to be sent flying.

"Ha!" Vegeta cried gleefully filled with smug satisfaction.

Sephiroth was soon on his feet, but there was also a grin on his face as a thin stream of blood crawled from the side of his mouth.

"Did I just make the infamous Sephiroth the 'chosen one' bleed? Not so immortal, are you?"

"Quiet! Who was the one who drew first blood? You've hardly done any damage to me, _Saiyan_."

Sephiroth used his right hand to wipe off the blood. It had been awhile since he had seen his own blood as he gazed at it on his hand. Its dark red color was just the same as the blood that flowed freely down Vegeta's forehead. Vegeta stood in his signature cross-armed stance seemingly oblivious to the wound that Sephiroth had given to him. Sephiroth gripped his sword tighter as he noted Vegeta's supremely pissed-off expression.

The two were back at each other with even more ferocity. It was worth noting that Sephiroth towered over Vegeta who was noticeably lacking in height. Ziggurat and Lang watched incredulously as Vegeta's comparably small body was able to keep up with the mammoth Sephiroth. Sometimes Vegeta would be so bold as to deflect the Masamune with his bare forearm showing how resilient he could be. The duel seemed to go on and on with no apparent ending. Each of them seemed equally matched.

Nearly an hour passed when the two began to grow fatigued.

"You just don't know when to die, do you?" Sephiroth asked.

Vegeta spat a wad of blood from his mouth, "Did you actually think this was going to be easy? I'll end this fight now."

"I'd like to see you try."

Vegeta dashed at Sephiroth again, but this time when he dodged Sephiroth's usual line of defense, he moved directly behind Sephiroth. Vegeta had to jump in order to grab hold of Sephiroth's neck with his forearm. Then he held on tightly. Hence the choke hold began. Sephiroth knew that he had to break free of it before it got out of hand and began by first trying to loosen Vegeta's death grip, but that feat seemed impossible. Gasping for breath, Sephiroth continually rammed the minuscule Vegeta into a tree over and over again. Sephiroth could have sworn that he heard the dull sound of fracturing bones. Vegeta's grip remained strong, however and was growing tighter.

"Release me, damn it!"

Vegeta's back was filled with scratches and bruises as Sephiroth finally fell to his knees.

"Let him go!" Lang cried from the distance much to Ziggurat's surprise.

Lang ran towards the two and threw his entire body into Vegeta who had only a split second ago grown unconscious from his frequent visits with the tree—it was surprisingly easy to push Vegeta off of Sephiroth. Ziggurat had followed the rash Lang a few yards behind him.

"Are you alright, Sephiroth?" Lang asked to his now sprawled form.

There was no response and Lang quickly grew concerned.

"He's alive," Ziggurat said before Lang bent down to check his vitals, "His heart still beats."

Lang looked up at Ziggurat who gave him a reassuring look. Then Ziggurat trudged over to Vegeta. The situation was the same.

Eventually, Lang and Ziggurat sat the two against a tree. Vegeta was two trees away from Sephiroth while the other two stood off a few yards conversing with each other.

"That has to be the most amazing fight I've ever seen," Lang said in hindsight.

"I had my doubts about Vegeta. He seemed like the kind of person who liked to talk, but not actually do," Ziggurat commented. "He held his own just as Sephiroth did."

"What are we going to do now? We can't treat their wounds with no medical equipment."

"This was what I was afraid of. If either of them became injured, there would be no way to treat them. Neither of them thought this through."

"Or maybe they did. It's just they were so arrogant that they believed the other would fall easily."

"Such confidence is admirable, but it could also be troublesome."

Lang looked back over to the unconscious Sephiroth. His neck had a black and blue ring around it and his clean, pallid face was stained with blood. Ziggurat looked over at Vegeta whose sweated skin glistened along with the fresh blood on basically his entire body. Of course this would be the case—automatically, the one without the weapon would be injured the most no matter how strong the person. There was, however, something that they shared at the moment; both Sephiroth and Vegeta's expression were surprisingly serene and relaxed as if instead of fighting they had been having a pleasant conversation about the weather.

"Hm. Is it finally over?" asked a female voice.

Lang and Ziggurat turned to the new voice. She had light green eyes and bright red hair. She carried no weapons as far as Ziggurat could see as she walked towards them. A heavy dark trench coat covered her with fanciful, elaborate sleeves that glittered with diamonds and rubies.

"Who are you?" ventured Lang first.

"Veil Publius," the woman said as she approached them, "I have brought you four here for a reason. Each of you come from four different existences in this universe. There is an impending doom upon this universe and it threatens to destroy us all. It is a plague that would bring even the strongest man or creature to its knees. As the Supreme Guardian, I cannot allow that to happen. Each of you possesses certain characteristics that will work well together—think of yourselves as a team."

"Did you honestly think that Sephiroth and someone like Vegeta would get along?" Ziggurat asked.

"I needed someone powerful like Sephiroth, but in order to have him in any kind of team, he needed someone equally as strong to keep him in check. Not only that—I needed this person to be unafraid to get their hands dirty and have a keen sense of combat. Who better than an arrogant Prince whose need to prove himself is never fulfilled—though he is a bit daft, but so is Sephiroth. I couldn't just have those two, however. I needed two other's whose personalities would not clash and could demonstrate what cooperation is all about. Now that they have 'gotten to know each other', everything should fall into place. I know that it is a bit dangerous to have someone who could care little about others in this little ragtag team. I'll explain what the situation is to Sephiroth—he'll listen to reason."

"What about Vegeta?" Ziggurat asked.

"Don't you worry about him. He's perfectly fine. As soon as you debrief him on the situation he'll readily join the cause. He has a wife and two children back at home and he'd gladly give his life to protect them," Veil said, "Now, look to the ground."

The two did so and noticed a bright yellow ray of light starting from their feet and into the distance.

"Follow this light exactly and you should reach a village by nightfall."

Veil disappeared from sight before the two could thank her or ask any more questions. Ziggurat took the heaviest one, Sephiroth. It was worth noting here that Ziggurat was actually a bit taller than Sephiroth so it was only logical for him to carry the tall swordsman. Lang carried Vegeta who was surprisingly heavy despite his small size. He felt more like a ton the longer Lang held him as he traversed down the path of light passing hundreds of identical trees.

At the village, they were glad to relieve their loads to a kindly old woman who seemed to have a special concern for them. She immediately fed the two—well really only Lang. It was impossible for Ziggurat to eat anything and so he refused kindly. He also, unlike Lang, did not sleep and would simply stay up all night.

Lang watched incredulously as the old lady cooked and cooked and cooked.

"Who's going to eat all that food? I would hate for you to have to waste it," Lang said.

"It's for the two men upstairs. Oh I know they'll be starving the next morning."

"I hope you're right," Lang said as the old lady kept herself busy at the stove.


	3. Grasp at Power

The Unlikely Team

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 3: Grasp at Power_

 **"That bastard," Sephiroth said as he felt how painful it was to move.**

He had not known the extent of the damage he had received until that moment. Sephiroth found that his upper torso was wrapped in bandages—that meant someone had touched him without his knowledge. The idea of that ever happening was galling to Sephiroth.

He couldn't be sure how long he'd been out, but it had been long enough to be visited by one Veil Publius in his dreams—a woman who had eventually convinced him to follow along with her scheme. They had settled upon a deal most agreeable, Sephiroth thought with a grin, but still...

After a moment more of looking over himself, he climbed out of bed. His sword and other effects had been carefully placed beside his bed on a counter. Instinctively, he slid Masamune out of its scabbard partway to see if it was still intact. Satisfied, he opened the door to his room with only one thought on his mind: Where was Vegeta so then he might kill him in his sleep—he wanted to eliminate the threat to his superiority.

There was a door right across the hall. He tried this one first, but saw that it was merely Lang who posed little or no threat to him. He deftly closed the door without the other noticing and tried another one which turned out to be a closet. Finally, he reached the door at the end of the hall—it had to be Vegeta's. Just as quietly as he had done Lang's door, he opened this one the same.

There was Vegeta—asleep as Sephiroth thought he would be. Vegeta seemed in a worse condition than him. The bandages on his head were barely white with all the blood it was collecting. His breath was very shallow and weak. Yet still as he laid there—probably unconscious—he seemed poised for attack. It was as if he could leap up anytime he wanted to—or perhaps it was just Sephiroth's mind being over cautious.

Slowly, the Masamune slid out with a crisp 'zing` sound. It was now or never. Sephiroth smoothly positioned the long, slim blade pointing at the other's chest. His hand shook a little as the constant jolts of pain in his body traversed through it. Just then the doorknob began to move. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly slid the sword back to its previous home. Sephiroth turned coolly to the intruder and saw that it was Lang.

"Oh, I didn't know you were up so early." There was obvious surprise in Lang's voice.

Sephiroth continued to look at the other with unfathomable eyes as Lang stepped over to Vegeta's bedside beside Sephiroth.

"What are you doing here, if…you don't mind me asking?" Lang asked to Sephiroth trying, but failing to keep the suspicion from his voice.

"I came to see how my 'team member' was faring."

"Team member? So you know already."

"A woman by the name of Veil Publius told me everything—and she was rather convincing."

"So you'll help us?"

"Yes, I will, but under one condition."

"What is that?"

"I'll tell you when everyone is present," Sephiroth said as he began to walk towards the entrance.

"I hope it's not too drastic."

Lang watched as Sephiroth disappeared from the doorway. Lang had meant to ask Sephiroth if he was feeling alright after yesterday's excitement. There was still distinct discoloration around his neck. Sephiroth, however, seemed completely fine and something told Lang that asking him such a question would only serve to piss him off.

Vegeta, as it was, did not wake until much later into the day. By that time, the only people who were in the house was the old woman and Ziggurat who had not wanted to be in Sephiroth's company. The old woman was fast asleep when Vegeta finally made it downstairs; she had just finished cooking some food. Though Vegeta's senses were not in tiptop shape, the smell of her cooking was unmistakable.

Coming downstairs, however, had been a hard task to accomplish when the world was spinning uncontrollably. His body ached all over and with every footstep came another bout of pain. He leaned against the hallway wall for a few moments to catch his bearings—or what little of it he could catch—and continued on. Once or twice, he had nearly fallen, but the thought of Sephiroth ever catching him in such an act caused Vegeta to take it at a much slower pace.

The room was still whirling as he reached the bottom of the steps and little specks of light played in his eyes. For a moment, he simply stood there waiting for his eyes to adjust to the new surroundings. It helped little that this place was completely foreign to him. There was an entire gap of time he was missing that could explain how he had gotten from the forest to this house. For the time being, it all felt like a dream—even the sweet smell of food. He was not entirely oriented when he began to move again and completely missed the stool that was right in front of him. With a crash, Vegeta found himself on the ground despite all his efforts to avoid doing such a thing.

"What—? A stool?" growled Vegeta as his eyes finally registered it.

In pure reaction, he grabbed it and thrust it away. As the stool sailed through the air, it caught onto a suspended lamp cord which caused the corresponding lamp to crash noisily to the ground. At about the same time, the stool collided with the nearby wall and produced a large, noticeable crack. Immediately afterwards, the sound of metallic feet could be heard pounding towards the sudden noise.

"Vegeta, it seems you've finally decided to wake."

The strong, deep voice floated over to the disgruntled Vegeta who knew right off that it was Ziggurat. In a way, Vegeta was grateful that it was just Ziggurat so that he wouldn't be too embarrassed about his situation.

"Seems I did," Vegeta finally responded as he climbed back to his feet—it was no easy task. "So where are the others?"

"Sephiroth is the type who does not like staying in one place for too long—he went ahead to scout the area. Lang simply tagged along."

"Scouting ahead?" Vegeta asked incredulously, "As in _helping_ us?"

"Things have changed considerably since yesterday's turmoil. A woman by the name of Veil Publius came before us and explained our purpose for meeting up as we did. Apparently, an inescapable plague will soon descend on the entire universe that we four happen to live in. How we will stop this impending doom remains unclear and in fact no one really knows what to do next. My guess is that we wait here for you and Sephiroth to heal."

"A plague, you say? Do you really believe that woman?"

"That fact doesn't really matter. We are trapped here and she seems like the only person who might ultimately return us to where she acquired us."

"So your plan is to follow what she says until she decides to let us go?"

"Precisely. Though I would not take her words so lightly—they may hold some truth to them."

"What if we're all just getting suckered and she's _not_ going to let us go?"

"That is a risk we have to take unless, of course, you have a better idea."

"Yes, because while I was deathly unconscious I was formulating a brilliant escape plan," Vegeta said exasperatedly.

Unperturbed by Vegeta's sarcasm, Ziggurat glanced over at the disfigured stool and shattered lamp.

"At least you didn't lose much of your vigor," Ziggurat said as he turned.

"Hey, Ziggurat, did you get a good look at Sephiroth? How's _he_ doing?"

"I would not say that his condition is as bad as yours, but he's a close second. He breathes at irregular intervals due to the fact that it is too painful to breath at a normal rate and his flexibility is poor due to overworked muscles."

"Are you…serious? Why is he even—Never mind, it's his funeral."

The kitchen was nearby and this was the next place that Vegeta visited. It was exactly where the smell had been coming from. Before his eyes were rows upon rows of food of every variety. He could not have asked for a better present. Before he basically inhaled all the food that was there, he smelled them first to see if they were poisoned. They weren't and this was all the invitation he needed. In less than ten minutes, the hot bowls and plates were made bare and clean—and Vegeta was only vaguely satisfied.

Just then he heard the front door open. No doubt it was Sephiroth and Lang.

"Is he awake?" Vegeta heard Sephiroth ask to Ziggurat.

Ziggurat then gave him the predictable answer and Vegeta took this as cue to make himself known.

"Ah, Vegeta," Sephiroth said looking directly at him.

Vegeta knew that Sephiroth took pleasure in the fact that he didn't look as wounded as Vegeta. That didn't matter to Vegeta as he too met his gaze. He did, however, feel quite lightheaded and knew instinctively that it would be hard to decipher what anyone had to say to him.

"There is something I wanted to say to all of you at once."

Both Ziggurat and Lang were all ears. Vegeta leaned against a wall.

"In order for me to be in this little group of yours— _I_ have to be the one to give the final say so on anything we feel like doing."

"So, do you assume leadership role?" Ziggurat asked.

"That is exactly what I am saying. That is the only way this is ever going to work. What do you think, Vegeta?"

"I don't care. I don't care anymore. I don't feel like getting into anymore ridiculous fights with you."

"Well sometimes, Vegeta, you're not as stupid as you appear."

"Too bad for you—you're a complete idiot through and through," Vegeta said as he turned.

Sephiroth frowned at Vegeta as he watched him make his way upstairs.

"What do you propose to do now?" Ziggurat asked Sephiroth.

"Well, isn't it obvious? We cannot yet go anywhere until Vegeta is better. We wait for him."

"And afterwards, where do we go?" Ziggurat asked.

"Is it your intention to bombard me with silly questions? You'll get your answer later."

Ziggurat and Sephiroth had a bit of a staring contest, but it was Ziggurat who turned from the other with a shrug. Since they had consensual agreement on Sephiroth's authority then he really had no choice but to take whatever Sephiroth had to say. Ziggurat wondered how willing Vegeta would be at following direct orders—he suspected that Vegeta would not hesitate to object if he found that he was forced to do something he really didn't want to.

* * *

" **So what do you think, Ziggurat?" Lang asked.**

By that time, the sun had set and everything was quiet. In a small village like this one, people went to bed early. There was hardly any electricity so the roads were pitch-black by now. Only the stars and the moon would illuminate the village. The sereneness of the settings did not eliminate the anxious feeling that was felt by all the team members.

"About our new 'leader'?" Ziggurat asked.

"Yeah."

"Someone was going to have to do it. A team would not function well without some kind of leadership."

"So you're alright with it?"

"It makes me uneasy. I would have rather Vegeta to ask for such a thing, but it seems Sephiroth beat him to it." Ziggurat looked at Lang then, "Sephiroth has his own agenda and he'll only help us if there is something to benefit him. This Veil Publius must have offered him a deal that he couldn't refuse."

"Or maybe he really wants to help us."

"Do you honestly believe that? Don't be so naïve. Betrayal is commonplace in the real world. It is better to be ready for such things than to be surprised by it."

"I'm not naïve," Lang said defiantly. "But we're all in the same boat. We can put aside our differences for a little while, can't we?"

"I'd like to think so," Ziggurat said turning away from him.

For awhile the two of them stood silently in the back of the house. Slowly, miniature stars began to reveal themselves around a crescent moon.

"It is getting late. Perhaps you should get some rest, Lang."

"Perhaps I should, but the night seems restless."

Lang stood there for a moment longer and then turned to leave.

"You keep watch then, Ziggurat."

"As always."


	4. Superiority Complex

The Unlikely Team

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 4: Superiority Complex_

 **The next day, Vegeta was up bright and early.** The woman had once again cooked a plethora of food and Vegeta had been the first to sniff it out. To the old woman's delight, he had his way with all the food she made. It was nice to see that all her hard work had amount to something.

"I guess I'll just have to make more food for everyone else."

"Maybe just for Lang. I'm not sure if Sephiroth even eats."

"Oh, he eats. He simply couldn't believe that you had done away with _all_ the food yesterday. I had to make him some more."

"Is that so?" Vegeta asked with surprise, "You really do learn something new every day."

Eventually, Vegeta heard the familiar sound of Ziggurat's feet coming towards the kitchen.

"You look better," Ziggurat said when he saw Vegeta, "That's a good thing."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Who else is going to stand up to Sephiroth when he gets out of hand?"

Vegeta grinned at this, "Right. This is coming from the same guy who thinks I'm mentally disturbed."

"Even so, you're not anything like Sephiroth. I've seen those types before—the kind who thinks the world is theirs for the taking and that only he can show the vast inferior people the error of their ways. Whatever deal Veil struck with Sephiroth to convince him to play along has something to do with power—an abundance of it. If there is no one to oppose his will, then he'll soon be completely out of anyone's control."

"You sound as if…you speak from experience. I think all of us have known someone similar to that. Sometimes, it's born from pure rage, jealousy, or revenge—having complete control over everything around you seems rather attractive to those whose lives were ruled by others or was conceived completely of lies."

"Well, everyone is different. Not everyone turns astray when things don't go their way."

"And not everyone, when they do find themselves on the wrong path, is unable to see their own stupidity."

"Indeed. Now it seems that you speak from experience."

"Ziggurat, I'll do everything within my power to make sure Sephiroth doesn't bring harm onto others."

"No one has asked you to take on such a large responsibility—

"Don't make such a big deal about it, I don't mind. Besides, isn't that what standing up to Sephiroth entails?"

"I suppose it does."

From that moment, they had gained each other trust. They understood each other in ways that they were yet to realize and they had common goals. The first was that they wanted to get out of this place and back to their respective homes and the second being that they should be extremely wary of Sephiroth and his actions.

"Vegeta, there's something that I've been meaning to ask you: Did you really mean what you said yesterday?"

"I said something yesterday? I'm drawing a blank."

"Yes, you did," Ziggurat said. "You said that you didn't care that Sephiroth wanted to be the leader of this group."

"What?!" Vegeta said standing. "Did I say that? I must have been out of my mind. I would never agree to that. _I'm_ the Prince of Saiyans and _I_ don't take orders from anyone. Leastly from him."

"And so my suspicions were correct. I didn't think your reaction from yesterday was quite right."

"It was quite _wrong_. I'm going to go upstairs right now, kick down his door and—

"Wait, Vegeta, there may be some merit in keeping it as it is now."

"This I'd like to hear."

"Nobody wants to see you guys in a fight again. The only thing that will result is more wasted time. Keep your eye on the ball, Vegeta. We're trying to get out of here as fast as we can. Let's humor him—manipulate him into thinking that he's in complete control when he isn't. In that way, we'll always have the upper hand instead of him. We could use that to our advantage."

"Manipulate?" Vegeta said liking the sound of that word. "That I can do. Although, Ziggurat, this better not get out of hand or else I _will_ get into a fight with him."

"Well, in that case, if it came to that, I wouldn't blame you."

"Good."

Ziggurat then noticed the table full of empty dishes. "Did you manage to eat all the breakfast?"

"She'll make some more anyways. Besides, I don't know what other food we'll come across if we're traveling in a place like this. Do you have a good map now?"

Ziggurat shook his head. "You may find it hard to believe, but the landscape changes every few hours. Last night, I tried to retrace my steps with the map I had already created and I found myself at a beach instead of at the woods from before."

Vegeta looked at Ziggurat with one raised eyebrow. "So scouting ahead would be completely pointless."

"I suppose if one was to do it right before we began traveling—it would help a little, but there's really no need to bother with it unless absolutely necessary."

True to her word, the old woman was busily frying some sausages and bacon in a cast iron pan on the stove. The smell of it made Vegeta hungry all over again, but he knew that he had to wait for the other two to eat—they _were_ a team. He would have rather that it was just him and Ziggurat. Cyborgs didn't need food and they made a habit of being completely helpful.

It wasn't long before Sephiroth came down the steps along with Lang a few minutes after. Just as the old woman said, Sephiroth did indeed eat, but not very much. It was a normal plate of medium-sized portions. Lang, on the other hand, ate a lot—for a human that is. Nothing unexpected from a growing teen that had a long journey ahead of him.

Out of all of them, Lang was the youngest—a mere 16 years old. Though Lang was considered a mystic (a being with two spirits instead of one), he was also the most human out of all of them—all things considering.

Vegeta was the only one out of them to have an actual family. He had people to fight for of his own blood—and that made him even more dangerous.

Ziggurat, noticeably, was the most mentally stable. He wasn't one for doing things too out of the box. There always had to be a reason behind his actions. His mind worked in a superbly logical way. He was a much needed addition to the group—he functioned as a kind of glue that kept everyone together however weak that bond might be.

Sephiroth, of course, was the most enigmatic. There was something obviously off about him. Vegeta sensed, from the beginning, a hidden evil intent lurking in the shadows. His pale hair, pearly skin, and sea green catlike pupils were all traits that hinted at his true nature.

"Ziggurat has brought to my attention that this land that we're traveling through changes every few hours. That means that it is dangerous for us to be separated for a long period of time. There will be no more scouting ahead."

"Our first rule, huh," Vegeta said.

Ziggurat took note of this rule and nodded silently. Lang listened intently.

"Though there are no obvious clues of where to begin, we must start somewhere."

"That _is_ true, isn't it?" asked the familiar voice of Veil responding to Sephiroth's latest statement.

Almost simultaneously, they all looked to where the sound had come.

"In order to stop this plague, you must stop the person who would create it and use it for his own good."

"So we fight him," Vegeta said.

"It isn't as easy as that. He is far too powerful to simply fight him as he is now. You must first weaken him by eliminating the sources of his energy."

"Just how powerful is this person?" Sephiroth asked calmly.

"You would hardly even put a scratch on him. Not even you, Vegeta."

"Is that a fact," Vegeta said indignantly. "And what's this guy's name?"

"His name is Avalon—

"Impossible!" Lang exclaimed as he stood up. "He's supposed to be dead. I _watched_ him die with my own eyes."

All the attention was on the young Lang. Only he had any inkling of knowledge of who Veil was talking about.

"That may be so, Lang, but he is the Supreme One, The Star Shaper, Gold Eyes—the Source Forge would not let such a being die."

"The Source Forge _helped_ me and my friends put an end to him—without it, we would have lost. Now you tell me it has resurrected the same evil that threatened to destroy all life?"

"The Source Forge is like any other mother—it cares for its children and will not let its children die prematurely."

"So what you are saying is that it is impossible to kill this Avalon. What would you have us do?" Ziggurat asked before Lang could say anymore.

"It is like I said; you must destroy his sources of energy. The first one being the Source Forge itself."

"You can't do that," Lang said weakly, "All life in the world that I live in depends upon the Source Forge's well-being. Destroy it and my world will surely die along with it."

"I don't like this one bit," Vegeta said also standing up, "Let's just get rid of this guy and call it a day. This isn't the first time I've faced impossible odds—

"This isn't a cartoon show, Vegeta. You can't just go in and 'save the day'."

"I didn't say it was. You think I'm a damn idiot? We're not going to go around and destroy millions of people's lives just so we can get to this one guy."

"It's a reasonable loss. Would you rather that billions upon billions of lives were destroyed?"

"No, there won't be any deaths," Lang said with force behind his words. "I understand what you're trying to do, Veil Publius, but I will not destroy my home planet and I will stop anyone who would dare do so. I will stop you if you plan on doing it. I will stop Avalon again if he is indeed still alive. And if you happen to have any puppets that blindly follow your will— _they_ will be dealt with accordingly."

Sephiroth glanced over at Lang briefly as he said this. The red glint in his eyes was now even more prevalent and his mouth formed an upside down "U".

"Fine, fine," Veil said nonchalantly brushing it off, "Forget about the Source Forge—it looks like I struck a nerve. Now, the Life Stream is another source of energy—

"Woman, I've had enough of listening to your babble," Sephiroth said finally saying something, "No one is going to 'destroy' the Life Stream—it is a fool's errand. Do you have anything else to say?"

"Tough crowd, I see. There's Shenron. He is an all-powerful, omnipotent dragon. Any objections, Vegeta?"

"You can't _kill_ him. It's unheard of and I think it's impossible. Or like Sephiroth said 'a fool's errand'."

"The Zohar?" Veil asked directly to Ziggurat.

The cyborg shook his head, "That has already been done. The Zohar and the Gnosis do not exist anymore. Even if the original Zohar was still around, I don't see how one would go about destroying it. All it seems to do is absorb things and drive people insane—I would just leave it alone."

"You mean—it's gone?" Veil asked.

"Yes. Zarathustra—or whatever that mecha being was—absorbed it and became something that threatened to destroy all human life or in Wilhelm's words 'give salvation to the human race'. That didn't happen and Zarathustra was destroyed along with the troublesome Zohar."

"Well, at least we're getting somewhere. There are two more sources then that I hope will not trouble you all. They can be located here in this world. Beware, these sources are guarded by rather capable fighters. You know one of them well, Lang. You remember Rauss, don't you?"

"Rauss," Lang murmured to himself, "I've defeated him too—and even then he was already dead. He was being kept alive and controlled by Kabel magic."

"Well, he's alive now—perhaps his power comes from the source he is guarding for sustenance. The second source—Ziggy, you know this person guarding it. You know him to be Voyager."

"What game are you playing?" Ziggurat said. "What place have you brought us to where people who have died are still alive?"

"You are in a world where anything is possible perhaps you shouldn't try too hard to try to rationalize everything. It is quite impossible in this place."

"Veil Publius, you've done little in the way of answering my question," Ziggurat responded back.

"What's wrong, Ziggy? Perhaps it is because my explanation doesn't fit into a neat little definition."

"I would rather you call me Ziggurat."

"Like the pyramid?" Veil laughed, "I'd rather not."

"If I'm not mistaken—you asked for our help," Sephiroth interrupted them as he looked directly at Veil, "We have all kindly given in to your request to help you in your endeavor. This isn't quite as one-sided as you think."

"You into breaking promises?" Veil questioned with a grin.

"When it suits my purposes," Sephiroth answered with pause.

Veil grinned at him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that was a threat."

"Veil Publius, tell us what needs to be done and if it isn't too outrageous we'll see to it."


	5. The Obligatory Castle

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

Chapter 5: _The Obligatory Castle_

 **The first thing Vegeta noticed was that he was deathly hungry.** Skipping meals certainly wasn't one of his pastimes, but today he had skipped both lunch _and_ dinner. According to Veil, they should have reached the next village before nightfall, but now it was becoming dark. Even Sephiroth's bright hair was becoming hard to see—at least for Lang and Vegeta. Ziggurat had night vision and could make out their surroundings without much difficulty.

"Ziggurat, how close do you think we are to the next village?" Sephiroth asked.

"No more than twenty minutes if it stays in its current location."

"Wait a minute," Vegeta said cutting in, "it almost sounds like this village has been getting up and walking further away from us."

"Not walking," Ziggurat corrected him, "Rather, it seems like we have not moved any closer to it since this morning. The landscape has been stagnant since we've gotten on this path."

"You know, when Sephiroth and I went out to scout ahead, we almost lost our way back to the house because the landscape was so changed," Lang piped in.

"And now it's not changing at all," Vegeta said.

"I'd like to have a word with that Veil Publius," Sephiroth said stopping completely and turning to them. "There's no sense in continuing on this path if we are not getting anywhere."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Vegeta asked to Sephiroth.

Vegeta's question remained unanswered when Sephiroth became aware of another unseeable presence. Then Vegeta felt it as well and began looking around on all sides.

"We're surrounded," Ziggurat stated.

"By who?" Sephiroth asked.

"I'm not sure, but their weapons are out and they appear ready to attack."

"How far in front of us?" Sephiroth asked as his eyes strained to see his invisible assailants.

"Five yards."

As soon as Sephiroth took his sword out, Lang did so as well. Ziggurat and Vegeta moved into their offensive stance. A knife whizzed past Sephiroth's ear and the fight began immediately. It was more like a scuffle than a fight. Except for Ziggurat, they fought blindly only catching glances of their assailants. The scuffle was over so quickly that they almost began to fight amongst themselves, but Ziggurat stepped in to stop this.

"They just came out of nowhere," Vegeta proclaimed.

"Maybe not. There's a castle not far from our position," Ziggurat said, "They came from there."

"Then that is where we are going next," Sephiroth said, "It is not my intention to stay out in the open in the dead of night."

Now they picked up the pace at a near run as they wanted to get to the building before it disappeared into thin air. Sephiroth reached the doorway first which was lighted by two torches. He took one for himself and gave the other to Lang. With that, they stepped in and was greeted with damp coldness and pitch black. Luckily, the torches revealed a set of stairs on either side of them.

"I just remembered something," Lang said as he looked at the small flame of his torch. "My origin is practically made out of fire. He's like one large torch."

"Save your energy," Sephiroth said, "We may need it later. For now, we have these torches."

"I don't like this place at all," Vegeta said with a frown.

"What's wrong, Vegeta? Afraid of the dark?" Sephiroth questioned in what could almost be called teasing tones.

Vegeta glared at the other, but said nothing back. In silence, he followed the other three up the stairs. The silence was deafening as no one opted to speak. Sephiroth was in the lead, then Zigguraut closely followed by Lang and finally Vegeta bringing up the rear.

"Do you sense that?" Vegeta asked suddenly to no one in particular.

He turned behind himself and thought that he had glimpsed something. Unfortunately, no one else saw a thing.

"I don't have time for any more of your delays," Sephiroth said simply and then returned to climbing the stairs.

Vegeta stood awhile longer looking and then half-heartedly began to follow. "Could it be," he said quietly, but then he shook his head.

Lang glanced back at Vegeta and gestured for him to keep up. Vegeta only complied to a certain extent, but at least he was closer.

The stairs were a long flight and it felt like days before they reached the next floor. By then, their party was short one person.

"Ziggurat," Sephiroth said immediately, "Do you see Vegeta anywhere?"

"Nowhere near us."

"Impossible," Lang said, "He was right behind me the whole time. People don't just vanish."

"Are you sure, Ziggurat?" Sephiroth asked.

"Very," the cyborg answered singularly.

Sephiroth stepped down a few steps with his torch. "From here on out, we can't be more than a few inches apart. No lagging."

Sephiroth stepped between the two and continued on. The two followed closer than usual.

"So we're not going back to look for him?" Lang asked concerned.

"There's no point," Sephiroth replied, "He could be anywhere."

"What if he's—

"Then there's nothing we can do for him," Sephiroth interrupted.

"Maybe we should turn back," Ziggurat suggested.

"You want to go out there, be my guest."

Something about being out in the open at night was unnerving to Sephiroth. Besides that, they weren't doing anything by going back outside and following the same path for eternity. Perhaps Vegeta was gone, but at least they were making some kind of progress. Even more, after what Sephiroth had seen of Vegeta, he could take care of himself.

There was another flight of stairs that they climbed. They were so close to each other that they could practically feel each other's breath. It made their progress that much slower and it took them forever to reach the next floor. Before they could embark on another flight, Ziggurat stopped him.

"There's a door here," Ziggurat said, "Perhaps we should investigate."

"Fine," Sephiroth said turning to him. "Perhaps we should."

Ziggurat, who was closer, opened the door first. Then he was followed by Sephiroth and Lang. The room was even darker if that was possible and Ziggurat's eyes had to readjust. In that moment after he did so, he detected Vegeta's form lying a ways out from them on the floor.

"Over there, I think I see something," Ziggurat said urgently, "Vegeta!" the cyborg called out.

There was no response from the silent form and the cyborg with Sephiroth and Lang crept closer.

"I see him now," Sephiroth said as the glow of the torch revealed what Ziggurat saw.

Ziggurat crouched down to Vegeta's level to check his vitals. "I don't understand," he said as his scanners ran over him, "He's perfectly healthy—there's nothing wrong with him that he would be in such a state."

Then suddenly, the whole room came alive with a bright explosion of color as thousands of while lights swirled incessantly around the room. Sephiroth looked up to the great ceiling above and immediately felt dwarfed. This was more like a stadium built for a giant.

"What did you say, Vegeta?" Ziggurat asked as his ear came closer to his mouth.

"The light...the light...is dangerous," Vegeta murmured.

"They're spirits," Lang said at once, "Galea!" he called out.

And finally his origin came forth with a bright burst of red light. Sephiroth stepped back in surprise when he beheld the fiery red spirit-like creature known as Galea. The energetic lights around them suddenly began to keep a respectable distance.

"Take him up, Ziggurat," Sephiroth said turning to them, "Let's get out of this room."

Ziggurat automatically took the semiconscious Vegeta into his arms. "Sephiroth, the door we came in is no longer there."

"There!" Lang exclaimed, "Another door just appeared."

Sephiroth's eyes followed Lang's finger to the new door. Together, the group ran to it, snatched it open and went through the door. When they stepped out, it felt like they were right back where they started on some floor other than the first one. Galea was so bright that they could finally make out their surroundings. Lang peered over the railings of the stairwell and found that he couldn't make out a bottom. This was indeed a castle. The stairs they were on were spiral. They hadn't realized that they were moving on a circular path as the castle's circumference was so massive.

Galea lifted up a shiny arm to point out something he saw and the group turned to the new presence.

"And who might you be?" Sephiroth asked.

"I am the owner of this castle," the odd lizard-like creature responded.

"So you are," Sephiroth said, "Would you then mind if I asked what you have done to Vegeta."

"Perhaps a better question would be, what has the castle done to him." The lizard stepped a little closer, "He belongs to me now. You would do well to calmly hand him over."

"Give me one reason why I would even consider your request," Sephiroth said back.

Suddenly, the tall swordsman was doubled over in pain as the creature jabbed him hard in the guts with a swift punch. No one even saw it happen.

"I'll kill you if you don't," it said in calm tones.

"Leave him alone!" Lang shouted at once.

Before Lang could do anything, he was demobilized and sent flying with an equally swift kick down the stairs.

"Now, how about you? Do I need to fight you as well?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ziggurat responded.

Before the lizard could step forward, Ziggurat watched as a blade came forth through its chest.

"Why you!" growled the humanoid lizard.

Sephiroth yanked his sword back and knocked the other to the ground. One thing Sephiroth didn't expect from the other was laughter. All in a split second, the lizard leaped to its feet, snatched Vegeta from Ziggurat's grasp, and knocked Ziggurat to his knees. Before the lizard could gloat in its success, it found itself under attack by Sephiroth. Similar to his fight with Vegeta, Sephiroth didn't land any hits even though the lizard was slowed down slightly by holding Vegeta. The lizard backhanded the annoying half-alien hybrid and Sephiroth found himself sliding down quite a few steps before he caught his bearings.

"Pathetic fools. _This_ is the group that's going to save the universe from its imminent destruction. What a joke," the lizard said as it turned.

The lizard held Vegeta in the most uncomfortable way. Its arm wrapped around his neck in a near choke hold. The semiconscious Vegeta could hardly decipher the situation, but when he felt himself being held in such a manner, he began to struggle in the lizard's grasp.

"As for you, Vegeta," the lizard said tightening his grip, "I'm going to put you to good use."

"Frieza...? No, it can't be," Vegeta choked out.

"Yes, it's me," he declared.

"You're...supposed to be..."

"Dead? Not in this world."

Ziggurat meanwhile had made the long struggle back to his feet as he listened to the rather intriguing conversation.

"Vegeta," Ziggurat began, "Quick, does this Frieza have a weakness?"

Vegeta couldn't think of one right off the top of his head, but he knew that Frieza had _some_ type of weakness.

"I'll answer for him then," Frieza said with a grin, "There is none. I'm completely full proof."

That incited a grunted laugh from Vegeta, "Yeah right—how do you think you died in the _first_ place?"

"Shut-up, you monkey!" Frieza snapped as his grip tightened even more, "Just like old times, isn't it, Vegeta? You just don't know when to close your mouth. Isn't that how _you_ died?

It was impossible now for Vegeta to respond as he felt himself drawing closer and closer to unconsciousness.

"Galea!" Lang cried out, "Attack!"

Out of nowhere came the fire spirit as its large fist slammed into Frieza's surprised face. Vegeta slid out of his weakened grip and landed roughly on the stairs. Ziggurat made his way quickly to Vegeta's side.

"Vegeta, are you—

"I'm fine..." Vegeta lied as he heard the concern in his voice.

They cyborg helped the other to his feet. Vegeta automatically leaned against the wall as his eyes searched for Frieza. Frieza was pinned to the wall by Galea's now massive form. Lang was only a few inches away from his origin and Sephiroth had just then made it back up the stairs.

"Well, have you come up with a weakness?" Ziggurat asked Vegeta.

"Yeah, he has one, but it's not as if we could exploit it. He's too fast, too powerful. We're not even on the same level."

"So we weaken him," Sephiroth said intruding on their conversation.

"You mentioned before that he was already dead," Ziggurat said, "How did you kill him before?"

"I didn't," Vegeta said slowly, "he killed me."

The two of them—Ziggurat and Sephiroth—were mystified. For a moment, one looked at the other with a perplexed expression. Before they could ask for further details, Vegeta was already moving over to Lang's position.

"How long can you hold him?" Vegeta asked to the youth.

"As long as you want really," Lang responded.

Vegeta turned to Frieza, "Who sent you?"

"You think someone else is pulling the strings? Think again."

"Then how else could you have escaped Otherworld? You would have needed some type of help."

"You want an explanation where there is none," Frieza responded.

Then suddenly the castle became alight with the same white lights from before. Vegeta turned as the soaring lights swirled incessantly around and around each other.

"I don't care much about the universe, Vegeta, if it should come to an end I would be glad. One by one, each of you will fall and there will be no more opposition to the destruction. It _will_ happen like it or not."

Vegeta turned to Frieza angrily, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. This is more than your silly ambitions to take over a small cluster of planets—this is the entire universe, billions of lives, even yours, Frieza."

Frieza laughed, "But you said it yourself, Vegeta, I'm already dead." He grinned to himself. "Everyone will die in a short time and we could finish this in death—you and I."

"It's already finished. There's no need to drag this out."

"What are you going to do? Kill me in cold blood? I wouldn't put it past you."

"No, all _you_ have to do is let us walk out of here freely."

"You know I can't do that. I was sent here to kill off at least one of you and I have my eye on you."

"You're not leaving yourself much options of survival."

"I don't care," Frieza spat, "You won't do anything to me, weakling! You'll let me go and I'll single-handedly destroy this entire group. You know I can."

"I doubt it."

Frieza glared at the other. "Do you see them, Vegeta? The unsettled spirits that fly around us? They all hate you as much as I do, if not more. This castle houses the restless spirits of the long dead."

"What?" Vegeta questioned.

"Don't try to act all dumbfounded now. Wasn't ruining people's lives one of your favorite pastimes?"

Vegeta crossed the distance to Frieza so quickly that he barely had a chance to finish his question. With a single hand, Vegeta gripped his fingers firmly around Frieza's neck.

"Such blasphemy!" he cried out.

Galea moved slightly out of the way.

"Is it?" Frieza shouted back, "Take a look at them for yourself. Perhaps you might remember their pitiful cries."

Vegeta released his grasp and stepped back from Frieza with disgust. It was as if someone had turned on the sound full blast in Vegeta's ear. Now he could hear their fearful cries, earsplitting cacophony and yells that sent shivers down his back. As he looked up at the swirling lights, he thought he could make out some faces; their expressions forever painted in terror and pain.

"Vegeta," came Ziggurat's deep voice as he placed a heavy metal hand on his shoulder, "Whatever has happened in the past, you can't let it affect you now."

Vegeta was nearly startled by the new voice, but he didn't turn to it.

"Do you hear me, Vegeta?" Ziggurat asked.

Ziggurat didn't like the haunted look in his eyes as the Saiyan continued to gaze at the mesmerizing lights.

"Why...are they here?" Vegeta asked slowly with a voice that was now hoarse. Ziggurat could plainly hear the heavy burden of guilt in his tone. "Why is Frieza here?"

"Let me do the honors, Frieza," Sephiroth said stepping forth. "Vegeta might not have the will to, but I have no problem killing you here, defenseless."

Sephiroth unsheathed his sword with a crisp "zing".

"You wouldn't," Frieza goaded.

"I would."

Before any more could be said, Sephiroth flicked his wrist and moments later, Frieza slid down to the ground decapitated. Lang grimaced at the sight, but he knew that it needed to be done. Sephiroth slid his sword back into it's sheathe and turned to the stiffened Vegeta. He noticed immediately the paleness of Vegeta's skin.

"I've had enough of this—we're leaving," Sephiroth said.

"Vegeta," Ziggurat said trying to pry him out of his strange trance.

It became painfully clear to Sephiroth that Vegeta was not going to move on his own accord or even that he was all there mentally. His expression was blank and indecipherable. Clicking his fingers in front of his face did absolutely nothing. He quickly weighed his options. Just leaving him there to let the spirits have their way with him was something that Sephiroth considered though only for a moment. That was exactly the kind of move that would ruin all their efforts. It wasn't that Sephiroth valued his contribution to the group, but letting one member fall would inevitably cause a domino effect on them all and Sephiroth did not believe he could survive in this world on his own just yet—he knew too little about it. Vegeta had to leave with them. The pin-sized spirits were moving in closer and closer. If it weren't for Galea, they wouldn't be standing right now.

Sephiroth knew they had to make a quick escape, but who was going to take care of Vegeta? He looked from Ziggurat to Lang. Ziggurat could keep up for the most part, but because of his unwieldy feet it slowed him down. Lang was young, but could easily grow tired—in comparison to Sephiroth. He came towards Vegeta's unmoving form and grabbed one of his hands before he shot down the stairs. Ziggurat and Lang followed in suit without question.

Just as Sephiroth suspected, instead of being dragged along, Vegeta moved quite easily behind him. It seemed that he required some sort of stimulus to get him to move. Although Sephiroth was doing this for a good reason, he still felt ridiculous in his current situation. It was a bit like dragging along a child as Vegeta was quite lacking in height.

Galea had grown to an even larger size as it tried to keep the braver spirits away from them. The stairs seemed to stretch on and on the faster they ran. Sephiroth began to wonder if they were doomed to never leave the castle and continue to travel down spiraling stairs for eternity. His eyes searched and searched for a door, but found none until he came upon one right in front of him to his right. The other two stopped as he did.

"I don't think this is the bottom floor," Lang said cautiously wondering why Sephiroth would even consider entering a new room.

"I know, but this door was not here before, right Ziggurat?"

"Correct."

"It could lead us anywhere, perhaps even outside."

He opened it and was met with the night air and then he heard the gentle sounds of an ocean. Sephiroth had no clue as to where he was entering, but it was outside and away from the castle. Dragging Vegeta along, Ziggurat and Lang followed the other two onto the beach. As soon as they stepped through, the door behind them disappeared along with the castle.

* * *

Oblivion772: I'm so surprised that there's someone out there who knows or at least has heard of these four characters. I kind of randomly put them together one day because I thought it would be interesting. I'm glad you enjoy reading this. I'm having a blast writing it. I'm always a little worried about keeping Sephiroth in character…his personality is a bit difficult to write since all I've seen him do is fight people and doing villainous things all the time.


	6. The Village beside the Ocean

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 6: The Village beside the Ocean_

 **"Where are we?" Lang asked rhetorically as he looked around.**

It was a nice change of pace from the dark castle. Lang bent down to touch the sand. He scooped a handful in his palm and then slowly released the grains through a loosely clenched hand. Then he repeated the process in wonder. It wasn't often that he found himself at such a place and it still held some wonder to the impressionable youth.

Lang heard a little distance away Ziggurat and Sephiroth discussing something. No doubt it was about what they were going to do next. He wasn't listening closely, but from the snatches he did catch, it seemed as if they had no idea. Lang had been noticing lately a certain growing dependence on Ziggurat's judgement from Sephiroth. Before, Sephiroth would not have discussed his ideas with anyone. Lang grinned briefly to himself. There may still be hope for this little group of theirs. It seemed to all depend on whether Sephiroth would cooperate or not.

To his left stood Vegeta left to his own devices. His stare was rather chilling and Lang decided to avoid his gaze. There was something obviously wrong with the self-proclaimed Saiyan Prince. Lang had never known him to be so wholly silent or motionless. He seemed more like a ghost. His eyes were made an even deeper black as it began to contrast so strongly from his pallid skin. What were they going to do about him? Or a better less popular question: how long was Sephiroth going to put up with him in this state? Lang supposed that Ziggurat would fight to keep him with them.

Even Lang didn't miss the formation of the two subgroups. Lang and Sephiroth in one and Vegeta and Ziggurat in another. Vegeta and Ziggurat seemed to have this "complete trust" relationship. There was practically nothing that could break the kind of trust the two had developed-except for maybe betrayal. It was hard to say the same thing about Lang and Sephiroth. Their relationship was more of a leader-follower one. Sephiroth didn't particularly trust Lang (or anyone), but Lang trusted the other to a certain extent. He couldn't put his full trust into someone like Sephiroth—he wasn't ignorant to his ominous nature. Lang did, however, have this eternal hope that Sephiroth could someday become that person that he could completely depend on.

Lang found himself drawing a rough sketch of first Sephiroth, then Ziggurat, and finally Vegeta in the sand. With a small circular motion of his hand, he drew a sun. Then he began with the clouds and seagulls until a long shadow fell over his etched creation. Lang looked up and saw that it was Sephiroth.

"There doesn't seem much we can do at this point, Lang. I would suggest getting some rest while you can."

"Alright," Lang said simply.

Lang watched as Sephiroth's eyes traveled down to his sketch. It didn't incite much of a reaction.

"Your origin," Sephiroth said slowly, "That is what you call it?"

"His name is Galea," Lang said helpfully.

"Does it take a lot of energy to bring him forth?"

"No, not really. I remember before it was the hardest thing just to call him out once, but that was the first time. I've grown used to it."

Lang watched as Sephiroth sat down in front of him. He kept a respectable distance and completely avoided ruining Lang's rather childish sketch.

"I see. Have you seen anyone in the kind of condition that Vegeta is in?"

Lang shook his head, "Sorry," he said glancing at Vegeta, "I wish I could help him."

But it seemed like no one could help him and this concerned Ziggurat deeply. He couldn't detect anything remotely wrong with Vegeta. Why he remained in such a condition was a mystery to him. It had to do something about those spirits. Why had Vegeta described them as "dangerous"?

With a firm press of his hand on Vegeta's shoulder, Ziggurat made the other sit.

"Don't worry, Vegeta, I'll keep watch over you."

Ziggurat turned his eyes towards the ocean. The scene was rather peaceful—enough so that anyone who was even the least bit tired would drift off into slumber. Even so, as he saw the resting forms of Sephiroth and Lang, the cyborg showed no signs of tiredness. He had an extraordinary amount of patience even for a cyborg. He could have sat there for an eternity and still his mind would have been on the situation at hand.

* * *

 **Sephiroth was the first to wake and, of course, Ziggurat was already fully conscious.**

"Has there been any changes?" Sephiroth asked to Ziggurat.

"None," the cyborg responded.

The two looked when they suddenly heard the footsteps of another presence and their eyes were greeted with none other than Veil Publius.

"Well, looks like you all managed to stay alive. See what happens when you don't follow my instructions?"

"If you want us to continue to follow your plans, then you'll tell us what is wrong with Vegeta and how to fix him," Sephiroth said.

"Why should I? You haven't deserved my help. You constantly ignore my orders-now look where it has gotten you."

"Why should you?" Sephiroth repeated closing his eyes, "Without us you will be nowhere-unless you feel like accomplishing your goals on your own."

"Must you always go to the extreme? Of course I'll help you. It wouldn't benefit me in the least to have even one of you incapacitated. I hope you've learned your lessons. Follow me."

Veil Publius turned from the two men and waited for them. Sephiroth shook Lang to wakefulness and Ziggurat guided Vegeta to his feet. With this done, the group followed Veil's lead. Sephiroth positioned himself nearly beside her.

"Tell me, Veil Publius, what exactly has happened to him?" Sephiroth asked.

"Is that concern I hear in your voice?"

"Answer my question," Sephiroth said plainly in his customarily low tone.

"Alright, fine. Always so touchy. Physically, there is nothing wrong with Vegeta, but his spirit has been fractured. That kind of injury is almost always fatal, but seeing as he's alive there may still be some hope. It was a direct attack from a vengeful spirit. That is perhaps the worst way to receive such an injury. Only skilled hands could repair such a thing."

"When you say 'attacked by a vengeful spirit', is that the same as simply looking at a spirit?" Ziggurat asked. He had moved up closer to listen in.

"A lot more than that has to happen. A vengeful spirit must pass through your spirit quite a few times to fracture a spirit accompanied with a body."

"I suppose that had already happened when we found him the first time, but he was able to speak and soon he recovered."

"Wait, what are you saying?" Veil asked Ziggurat, "That he was able to function even after the initial attack?"

"It wasn't until he spoke to Frieza and gazed up at the spirits that anything like this happened."

"Ah, I see," Veil said after a short pause. "That makes sense. Saiyans have a natural defense when it comes to such things, but it can be compromised by their state of minds."

"Saiyans..." Sephiroth said thoughtfully, "I almost thought they were a fictitious race made up by Vegeta's vivid imagination."

"Well, you of all people should know that there are races other than humans that exist out there," Veil said to Sephiroth.

Ziggurat glanced at Sephiroth curiously. While Vegeta had openly claimed to be a Saiyan, Sephiroth had not been overly specific about his own origins. At first, Ziggurat had assumed him to be human, but now there was more evidence that he was more than just that. Ziggurat was not even remotely surprised at such developments.

"Now, how do we cure him?" Ziggurat asked.

Veil turned to the cyborg and smiled mischievously, "Continue walking forth and you will eventually find out.

"Wait, Veil..." Ziggurat exclaimed just as she disappeared completely.

"What do we do now?" Lang asked with genuine worry, "All I see out there is sand."

"We do as she says," Sephiroth replied with disdain clear in his tone, "For her sake, she better be telling the truth."

The group continued walking down the shore weary of straying away from their current direction. After about an hour, Sephiroth was just beginning to lose faith in Veil's instructions. When he began to make out a silhouette of a village in the distance, everyone was glad to see it, but no one more than Ziggurat who was the most concerned about Vegeta.

When they arrived at the village, it seemed as if the villagers had known beforehand that they were coming. A group of red skinned people stood before them to greet them. The leader—the larger man with elaborate tattoos-came forth bravely to Sephiroth whose aura easily radiated leadership.

"Welcome, my friend, to the Blue Isles. I am King Talki."

"And I am Sephiroth—the welcome is well appreciated," he said with a slight nod, "But rather unexpected. Did Veil warn you of our coming?"

"Who is Veil?" the leader asked with a confused look, "Our Seer forewarned us of your coming."

"You're...Seer? And you believe this person?"

"She's never been wrong."

"Ah, then you also know why we are here." Sephiroth turned to Vegeta.

"His spirit must be mended," Talki said walking to the pale Vegeta. Talki took up one of his hands and examined it closely, "He is lucky to be alive, but I can promise you that he will be back to himself in three days."

"And what is the payment?" Sephiroth asked.

"You speak quite directly. We'll discuss such things later when my guests are fed."

"Sorry to disrupt your customs and I appreciate what you will do for Vegeta, but I don't like surprises."

"I expected that you would insist."

"Your Seer?"

"Yes."

"Then why bother to prolong things. Tell me the payment."

"My people only have one way an outsider must repay us if they need our services—you must impregnate one of our female."

"What?" Sephiroth asked as shock temporarily distorted his enigmatic expression, "There must be some other way."

"No," Talki said shaking his head, "Our village is small and we are all related in some way. We survive only with the insertion of new blood."

"I…understand."

"Outsiders often show the same sort of surprise. That is why we prefer to discuss the payment after food and spirits. I will allow your group a day to think of how you wish to pay." Talki held Vegeta's hand firmly and was about to turn when Sephiroth stopped him.

"Don't you think it's a little unfair to expect an answer out of us in one day? Do you expect 'payment' before you've fully rendered your services?"

"I only want a confirmation of what will be done so that we can then set up the ceremony."

"A ceremony?"

"A woman will lose her virginity. Now, please, this man must be seen quickly before he collapses."

King Talki guided Vegeta to one of the male villagers and the man in turn guided him to a nearby hut.

"Now, my friends," Talki called to them, "You all must eat," he said jovially, "Come follow me."

The entire group of red skinned men formed an opening so that he could make it to the front easily and then they slowly started following. The trio followed reluctantly.

"Is that guy serious?" Lang asked, "I've never heard of a payment like that."

"We must keep ourselves alert," Sephiroth said, "This entire scheme doesn't sit well with me. Ziggurat, what do you think?"

"I see no foul play. They're behavior is quite logical."

"Explain yourself," Sephiroth said—or more like ordered.

"Entire civilizations have been wiped out because of extreme incest. Isolated groups of people are always faced with this problem as their bloodlines slowly become more and more related. This village only exists now because of its many services that it could offer in return for a seemingly odd cost."

"What's incest?" Lang asked with genuine curiosity.

"Sexual intercourse with someone who is closely related to you like a cousin or parents."

"And something bad happens when you do that?"

"There is almost always something wrong with the offspring as a result."

Then Lang finally understood, "The town I live in is kind of isolated as well. You think…you think the same could happen there?"

"A complete wipe out isn't something that occurs overnight, Lang. I'm sure you won't have to worry about that in your lifetime."

The group eventually entered into a larger hut where the savory smell of food caused a few stomach growls from Lang who hadn't eaten in a while. There was a long table stretched out before them and the trio opted to sit together. The food was passed down to each person at the table until everyone had a chance to get to all the variety. Ziggurat, of course, ate nothing all, politely refusing the food and having to explain why to several natives. Lang, on the contrary, tried everything even the more questionable selections—the natives seemed to take an instant liking to him especially the females. Sephiroth accepted only a moderate amount of food and kept to himself for the most part. Some tried to include him in their conversations, but Sephiroth gave them little leeway.

Sephiroth noticed how the table was arranged. First there were the leader and his wife, the couples, then some males, and finally near the end was the comparably large amount of single women which was where the trio sat. Sephiroth's expression remained uninviting as he analyzed the situation. King Talki was forcing them to mingle with the virgin females in a casual setting. Well, he wasn't the mingling type—he only wished that the whole affair would end now. Being around too many people made him nervous. He knew he couldn't just get up and leave, that would be rude; they had already entrusted Vegeta's wellbeing in their hands. It was better to cross all the "t's" and dot all the "i's" until Vegeta recovered.

The eating affair took nearly an hour. By then, even Sephiroth was ready for rest. When he wasn't fighting or trying to destroy the world, he was completely bored. King Talki led them to their own hut which contained three beds and bid them good night.

"Well, it seems as if their Seer missed the fact that you don't sleep," Sephiroth said to Ziggurat who sat down presently on the edge of the bed.

"For seeing that we would come and our purpose is quite an incredible feat. They're not usually that accurate."

"The point remains," Sephiroth said back.

As if simultaneously, their minds quickly went back to the dilemma at hand. Who exactly was going to be the one who fulfilled the price?

"Lang, I take it you're a virgin," Sephiroth said to him.

Lang silently wondered if Sephiroth actually was telepathic and shyly nodded at him—he knew already that he was blushing as he felt the hot burn on his cheeks.

"And I'm sure you don't want to lose your virginity to some random female you hardly know."

Lang nodded again.

"And you, Ziggurat, for obvious reasons couldn't possibly impregnate another."

Ziggurat nodded affirmatively though still a little embarrassed. Being a cyborg meant that at some point he had been human. He had spent the majority of his time as a cyborg in total self-pity and disgust. By now, though, he was quite over that, but it was at times like these that made him feel the most ashamed.

Sephiroth was silent for a moment and then continued, "And I simply do not want to."

"Wait, you can't possibly mean to put this all on Vegeta," Ziggurat asked at once.

"And why not? He put himself into that condition and I'm not willing to clean up his own mess."

"King Talki needs the answer tomorrow."

"And he will get it."

"But Vegeta needs at least three days to heal."

"Do you really think so, Ziggurat? Saiyans seem to be quite durable and he took half the time than I expected to recuperate from the beating I gave him last time. Take that into consideration."

"This isn't like last time. Before, the wounds had been physical. These are spiritual. There's no telling how long it could take."

"Either way, he will pay on his own. If King Talki insists on a celebration, then we'll simply wait longer."

"I'll do it," Lang said quietly.

The two of them turned to him to see if they had heard right.

"We can't waste time waiting for Vegeta to do something. I'd rather just get this over with. I told myself that I would do anything to stop this plague from destroying the world."

"Lang, are you sure?" Ziggurat asked.

Lang nodded, "Very."

"We'll check on him early tomorrow. If he's well enough, then your sacrifice will be of no use—he'll do the honors. If not, and you haven't changed your mind, then there's no one stopping you from going through with it."

"Alright," Lang said though still disliking the fact that there was a chance everything could be dumped on Vegeta.

Ziggurat didn't think Vegeta would recover that quickly so he worried only of Lang. This entire situation seemed ridiculous—if all else failed, they could simply leave once Vegeta got better. Somehow, Ziggurat didn't feel too guilty about the idea.

Lang smiled for a moment when he thought of something completely off topic. "You know, if Vegeta had been there at the feast, I'm sure he would have cleaned them out. King Talki would have to think twice about keeping us here for the ceremony."

"And tomorrow would be two entire days without food for Vegeta," Ziggurat said thoughtfully.

"Good, I hope they starve for a while for all the trouble they're causing us," Sephiroth said.

They couldn't tell if this was Sephiroth's idea of humor or if he was completely serious. They hoped for the former, although, as usual, his expression gave them little evidence.

Lang took off his shoes then and crawled into bed. By then, it was quite dark and just like in the last village, there was no electricity. Sephiroth admired Lang's ability to fall asleep so easily because even as he slid under the cover, his green catlike eyes remained alert. He heard as Ziggurat walked outside and as he dawdled around the hut. At least, Sephiroth thought as sleep found him, they'd always have a lookout.

* * *

 **The bright sun awoke Sephiroth quickly enough—he slept lightly.** When he walked outside, he found Ziggurat leaning against the hut's adobe surface deep in thought. The cyborg turned to him when he noticed his presence.

"Let's go check on him now," Sephiroth said.

"And what of Lang?"

"It won't take long," Sephiroth answered.

Luckily, Ziggurat had taken note of how the huts were situated. Their hut was so far in the back that without Ziggurat's help, they might have been lost.

They arrived at the hut soon enough, but before they could enter, a female stepped out of it. She seemed blind with her cloudy eyes, but she noticed their presence immediately.

"Ah, Sephiroth and Ziggurat, I knew you two would come."

"People seem to know quite a lot," Sephiroth answered her with slight annoyance.

"I am the Seer. I saw that you two and the others would come to this village. I know what your quest is and I hope that you will all achieve what you strive to obtain."

"Is he well," Sephiroth asked the Seer.

"Yes, quite. As soon as the Healer finished his work on Vegeta, he became quite conscious…and quite aggressive. We had a fine time convincing him that we weren't his enemy and that he needed rest."

"And so he's asleep now?"

"Not as of now. I promised that you two would show up now so he's expecting you."

The Seer stepped out of the way and allowed them to enter. They could already hear his voice in the back.

"Give me one reason why I should continue to sit here and listen to your crap."

"If the Seer says they'll be here, they'll be here."

"Tch, this is some type of elaborate plan—what have you really done with the others?"

It was then that Sephiroth and Ziggurat stepped in and Vegeta looked up immediately.

"Now you have your proof," Sephiroth said presently.

It was then that the Healer took his leave.

"What happened? Weren't we—weren't we in that castle? And there was Frieza…"

"And that's where your memory should end," Ziggurat said, "Apparently, your spirit was fractured just when you looked up at those lights."

"That's right," Vegeta said slowly, "The pin-sized spirits."

"That was when we made our exit. We found a door that led us to a beach and with Veil's guidance we made it here where a Healer has mended you."

"So let me get this straight—my spirit was 'fractured' and now I'm here?"

"Correct," Ziggurat replied.

"But there's something you have to do," Sephiroth said, "The villagers here expect a payment."

"Which is?"

"Impregnate one of the females."

"What?" Vegeta asked confused.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

"They asked _me_ specifically?"

"They don't care which one of us it is," Ziggurat clarified.

Sephiroth gave Ziggurat an annoyed look—he hadn't planned on giving away so much information. They watched as Vegeta quickly ran down the options and suddenly his eyes turned to Sephiroth.

"Is there a problem?" Sephiroth asked.

"Yes, there's a _big_ problem—I don't think I could go through with it because—well, because of personal reasons. Lang's too young, but you, I don't see why—

"Because I don't want to."

"What kind of reason is that?"

"Would you rather I lie and say personal reasons?"

"I do have personal reasons. You don't."

"Vegeta, I'm sure you're aware that one must be… 'interested' and 'motivated' for anything like impregnation to happen. I'm very uninterested."

Vegeta gave him a strange look, "What, are you waiting for an invitation or something—

"No, I'm just not interested. You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I wouldn't."

"For a full-blooded alien, you act very human."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have allowed these humans to shape who you are and strip away your real self."

"You don't know anything about me _or_ my race. Look around you, Sephiroth, all there is are humans, maybe it's time you accepted that or else you'll always be alone."

"Perhaps I choose to be."

"Then that's your business."

Ziggurat spoke before their conversation got any worse. "Maybe we won't have to do any of this." He had their full attention, "What if we simply left?"

"And you don't think their Seer would have seen this coming," Sephiroth asked.

"Maybe, but do you think they could actually stop us?" Ziggurat replied.

"So we just ditch them," Vegeta said thoughtfully.

"The price seems a bit steep, but they leave us no choice," Sephiroth said latching on to Ziggurat's idea.

"We could leave now, in fact. First, we get Lang and then calmly exit," Ziggurat said.

"Wait, wait, there's one major hole in your plan," Vegeta said urgently. As if on cue, everyone heard a very loud growling noise from Vegeta's stomach, "I _have_ to eat something."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Sephiroth said after a moment, "After we get Lang, we'll go see what they have for breakfast. Then we'll leave."

"Now that sounds like a decent plan," Vegeta agreed with him.

The trio exited the hut then and they followed Ziggurat back to the hut where Lang was. By the time they got there, he was nowhere to be found.

"Are you sure this is the right hut?" Sephiroth asked Ziggurat looking over the empty room.

"Positive."

"He must have left somewhere then."

Vegeta looked inside as well and noticed the three beds.

"Why would he do that?" Ziggurat asked aloud, "I'm sure he knew how important it was to stay in one place."

 _Maybe he's at breakfast right now while I'm here starving myself to death waiting for him_ , Vegeta thought anxiously to himself, _How long has it been anyway? Two, three days?_

"I'm not so sure if he knew as much," Sephiroth said, "We _did_ leave him while he was asleep. Perhaps when he woke, he thought we left without him."

Vegeta sat down cross-legged on the sand outside with mounting impatience. "There's not much we can do about all this, now is there," Vegeta called to the two.

"We could wait for his return," Ziggurat said pointedly.

Ziggurat was caught off guard by the glare he received from Vegeta as he stepped outside.

"Vegeta's only thinking with his stomach," Sephiroth said as he stepped outside as well, "Don't mind him. He'll be of no help for a while."

Vegeta grimaced at the other, but said nothing to deny it. "How long do you plan waiting?"

"As long as it takes," Sephiroth replied.

Vegeta grumbled at this already settling on waiting an hour tops and then going for some food no matter what anyone said. He calmed himself for the time being and closed his eyes. The hunger pangs were quite jarring and hard to ignore, but he attempted to anyway for Lang's sake. By the time an hour passed, his stomach was churning.

"Alright, that's it, I'm leaving. You guys wait for that kid," Vegeta said standing up.

"Patience isn't one of your virtues, is it?" Sephiroth asked him.

"Nice of you to notice," Vegeta said.

"Wait, how do you know where they would be serving breakfast? It's practically a maze around here," Ziggurat said concerned.

"I can _smell_ the food, Ziggurat," Vegeta said turning from him, "Anyways, you'll know where I'll be."

Sephiroth watched him leave and then turned to Ziggurat, "I didn't realize that he was a bloodhound as well."

"Well, it seems his senses become even more heightened under such circumstances."

* * *

 **His nose led him directly to the food and King Talki was already there.**

"Ah, Vegeta, finally you have arrived—an hour later than expected."

"What?"

"Our Seer foresaw your coming and also your appetite. All the food that you see here is yours."

Vegeta had already noted the long table of food before him.

"Our Healer says you had a fitful rest last night. Perhaps after this you might find it to be more peaceful."

"You wouldn't have seen Lang by any chance," Vegeta asked taking a seat and searching out the utensils.

"Ah, no, but I'll be happy to have others check around."

"That's fine," Vegeta said.

He quickly began on the food nearest to him. King Talki watched from a distance of which Vegeta was fully aware of, but he could care less. Vegeta could already predict the shocked expression on the King's face after he finished all the perishable items—fish—off the table. Yet when the plates were emptied it was Vegeta who was caught off guard when King Talki ordered another full table of food to be set.

"I told you, the Seer foresaw your appetite. Don't be alarmed."

The King seemed cheerful enough so Vegeta made no attempts at declining. He was, however, suspicious of his motives.

"Why are you doing all of this? A small village like this wouldn't give away such large quantities of food without expecting something in return."

"Calm your suspicions. We're only doing this out of the kindness of our hearts. We're celebrating another insertion of new blood into our society."

Vegeta turned from him after he said this, "I see."

"Perhaps you might feel indebted enough to stay and fulfill your payment."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not the first ones who have tried to back out of this. We're hoping that you have some type of conscience or feel inclined to repay us if we give you your heart's desire."

Vegeta stood up then. "Listen, King Talki, I don't want to waste your time. I cannot in good faith take what you're offering knowing that I plan on ditching."

"But you have to or else the food will go bad—we have no means of preserving perishable items. Don't let our effort be in waste."

Suddenly Vegeta felt himself being trapped into a corner, at least as far as circumstances went. He wasn't about to make out with some chosen foreign woman not when he already belonged to another. On the other hand, he wasn't going to stand for such a large amount of good food to go to naught.

"Please, I implore you. Sit down. Eat."

"King Talki…" but Vegeta didn't rightfully know what he planned on saying to him.

"We'll discuss this later. I have some personal matters to deal with. Now sit down. I will be back. In the meanwhile, eat."

Vegeta watched the other leave. With a sigh, he sat down once again. The food sat temptingly in front of him and soon he gave in to his hunger.

Exactly at the moment which he was full, he had went through all they had to offer him. The entire time, King Talki had not returned and after waiting there for an entire hour Vegeta deduced that he had not intended to return. Vegeta soon exited the oddly empty hut only to be greeted by King Talki and some rather formidable looking men.

"So did you have your fill, Prince Vegeta?"

Vegeta grimaced at the title the other gave him. It sounded odd coming from his mouth.

"Well, I didn't have a choice, did I?" Vegeta retorted.

"Oh you did, but I knew the choice you'd pick. You fell right into my hands."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I didn't poison the food if that's what you're thinking."

"Then what?"

"I only needed you out of the way for a while so then I could have my way with your inattentive comrades. My warriors are quick and they had an easy time with capturing them."

Try as he might, Vegeta couldn't quite picture Sephiroth being taken down that easily. Just how "quick" were King Talki's warriors?

"Vegeta, don't worry."

The Saiyan was utterly startled by the soft female voice from behind him. Vegeta turned to her. It was the Seer from before.

"Don't worry. Just trust me."

King Talki spoke up then, "Prince, if you ever want to see your people again you'll fulfill the payment now. Go into the hut with the female in front of you and do not leave until you're finished. If you try to escape we will put you down."

"What makes you think I'll go along with this?"

"Because it has been foretold. Do you really want to be the reason why the universe perishes? Do this simple task and all will be well."

"Vegeta, please," the Seer said staring pleadingly at him. Then she spoke in a low whisper, "Don't fight just yet. I have a plan."

Vegeta looked at her pensively and then responded to King Talki's last statement. "Fine, I'll do it. It's nothing."

King Talki grinned at this turn of events, probably because he had already been told by the Seer that it would happen as such.

"But first, I have to know for certain that you've actually captured them."

* * *

" **I can't believe this," Sephiroth complained passionately, "We were bested far too easily."**

The three of them sat together in a rather sturdy cage. The cage was too short really for anyone to stand and its width was too brief for them to avoid violating each other's' personal space, but whatever space there was left Sephiroth seemed to be the undisputed owner of it. Lang was far closer to Ziggurat than Sephiroth for some reason and he sat in between the two giants. Ziggurat didn't seem as worked up about the predicament, but, of course, when was he ever worked up? He sat calmly, deep in thought. Sephiroth on the other hand was fuming. There was no mistaking that tone of voice or that vicious look in his eyes.

Suddenly, they felt themselves being moved to another location.

"Whatever they're going to do, I hope they get on with it already. We've been sitting here for hours in this ridiculous cage being transported repeatedly for no apparent reason," Sephiroth spat.

Lang said absolutely nothing back sensing that nothing good would come of it. Comforting words didn't seem like they'd do the trick here.

"Perhaps we're being transported to a specific area. I've been following their route and it seems like we've been taking the quickest one to get to the entrance. I suspect that there may be some type of ceremony in place," Ziggurat related to them.

Sephiroth felt as they were placed on the ground once again.

"You don't mean to say that Vegeta actually went through with it?" Sephiroth asked Ziggurat.

"It is quite possible."

"Well, maybe it's for the best. They'll get their silly payment and we leave."

The cage was lifted for the final time and they were placed in the wide clearing of the familiar entrance. The three of them had the some idea as they moved closer to the bars in order to better view the scene before them.

The first thing they noticed was Vegeta standing near a hut with a woman behind him. If anything, his crossed arms signaled that he was just as annoyed about this entire situation as they were. King Talki stood a distance away and he seemed to be trading words with Vegeta. Red-skinned warriors created a semi-circle around the king's left flank. One of the king's arms swept out to his right side as if to present them—the cage which they sat in—to Vegeta. Sure enough, Vegeta finally took notice of them. In fact, he began to make his way towards them. There was a brief dispute among the warriors no doubt in response to the fact that King Talki might have told Vegeta to stay put—something along those lines—but King Talki signaled to his warriors to calm their nerves, he would allow.

Vegeta squatted down to their level when he go to the cage. The first thing Vegeta noticed, of course, was Sephiroth. Was it his imagination or did Sephiroth seem a bit under the weather? His eyes were quite red-rimmed by the time Vegeta got to him, but Vegeta didn't bother mentioning this fact.

"How did you guys manage getting captured?" Vegeta asked first and foremost.

"Listen, Vegeta, they're quick—inhumanly quick. I just didn't see them coming," Sephiroth forced out.

The other two agreed with him.

"It was utterly embarrassing," Sephiroth continued with gritted teeth, "If I could get my hands on their collective necks…"

Suddenly, as quick as a whip Sephiroth's hand shot through the bars and grabbed the nape of a startled Vegeta's shirt pulling him in closer.

"You do whatever you need to do, but after that, I want you to destroy all of these sickening warriors."

Vegeta snatched his shirt back from his angered grasp, "From what you told me, they're probably too quick for me to even begin to fight them."

" _You're_ quick," Sephiroth snapped.

"And if they don't attack me, then I won't attack them."

"Oh, they will. I fully expect them to," Sephiroth said with the beginnings of a grin, "They're the loyal type. As soon as their leader gives them the order to fight, they won't stop until their finished or unless we demolish them."

Vegeta looked down at the lock to the cage and couldn't even begin to try to bypass it.

"Fine, I'll do my best, if it is needed, but who am I kidding? My plan includes doing that very thing, stealing the keys, and leaving. Don't worry, I'll get all of you out of here."

The way Vegeta had said it, he seemed fully invested in saving them. Lang instantly put his faith in him. Ziggurat had an optimistic outlook on the situation. And Sephiroth? Well, he couldn't wait for the moment when the warriors—of whom he had suffered an embarrassing defeat—were decimated.

Vegeta stood up then and made his way to the hut. He grabbed the hand of the youthful Seer and entered.

"Now you have the element of surprise on your side," the Seer explained to an anxious Vegeta, "When you go out there, you'll have to kill all the warriors. They will not stop otherwise."

"Seems everyone wants them dead."

"Don't you?"

"If I don't have to—"

"You're a Saiyan, correct? Don't try to feed me those unnecessary deaths lines. Saiyans fight to kill. In fact, you'll feel more like yourself once the deed is done."

"Who are you to tell me who I am? They don't deserve to die; they're simply following orders and if I do take them out, this village will become utterly defenseless and vulnerable to any outside attack after we leave. Don't you care about your own people?"

"No. We are a dying race. I'm sure you can relate. Leaving us defenseless might prompt King Talki to consider moving on from this place. There's nothing for us here, but isolation and botched, desperate situations like these when we attempt to save ourselves by offering up some poor virgin female."

"So this is all going according to plan. Me being able to save my comrades is just a happy coincident."

"Sorry, did I hurt your pride? Excuse me for not having 'make Vegeta happy' my main priority," the Seer said with sarcasm.

Vegeta frowned at her.

"Now, before you go out there I want you to know that your previous inability to use all your strength are no longer there and will remain that way until after 5 minutes—that's as long as I can give you all at once."

"Wait, you mean…"

"Yes," the Seer said with a smile, "Have fun."

Vegeta hated to think this, but he probably would enjoy every bit of it. He could finally exercise his too long dormant powers. As much as he was against killing sprees of any kind, he couldn't help feeling a bit of anticipation.

"Well, are you waiting for an invitation? Go."

Vegeta literally flew out of the hut at jet-speed and flash killed every single one of the warriors with tiny finger blasts which lasted all of five seconds. When the sand grit settled down again only King Talki and Vegeta stood. Strewn around them were burnt mutilated bodies of Talki's once strong warriors.

King Talki stared in complete disbelief at the monstrous being that stood before him with a triumphant grin.

"You—you monster! Please…please don't—"

"The keys. Do you have them?"

"H-here!" King Talki tossed them to him and Vegeta caught them without much effort.

Vegeta came to the cage again, but this time to unlock it. The other three stepped out cautiously and wondered if this was the same Vegeta they had come to know and tolerate.

"Vegeta, how did you…" Sephiroth began, but he was interrupted by the Seer's voice.

"Saiyans are quite thorough, aren't they," the Seer said putting on a knowing face. But even with knowing, seeing such destruction up close was rather unnerving.

While before she had all but made fun of his conscience, she was glad now that he had one. Such abilities could easily become overwhelming and dangerous. She wondered if five minutes had been a painful overestimate on how long he would actually need to use his energy or ki.

"Seer, you had something to do with this," Sephiroth challenged.

She held a cup in her hand as she came closer to him, "I was merely helping your pitiful group. It's amazing how close you guys fell to losing everything. You should thank me."

"What did you do to Vegeta?" Sephiroth demanded.

"The only thing she did," Vegeta began before she could, "Was lift any sort of limitations that were put on my energy."

"This universe is self-protecting," the Seer continued, "Anything that actively threatens its existence is rendered inoperable."

"And what of this plague," Ziggurat cut in.

"Well, Avalon, the one who is orchestrating this whole thing placed no immediate harm on this universe so his work remains uninterrupted."

"Smart man," Sephiroth commented.

"Well, now we can stop him, right?" Lang finally said, "I mean, Vegeta just took out an entire village worth of warriors without even blinking on eye. Avalon should be a snap," Lang said looking at Vegeta with a near reverent expression.

"You heard Veil, kid. Apparently, you can't simply attack him head on," Vegeta said.

"But she could be wrong," Lang returned.

"She could, but I don't want to take that chance. This situation is far too precarious to be taking gambles like that."

Ziggurat still couldn't believe the quick job he had done on the warriors. He analyzed the entire scene over and over again and was still in disbelief. Something told him that even this wasn't the tip of the iceberg.

"Vegeta," Ziggurat began getting attention, "Veil has her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise me much that you _could_ defeat Avalon yet she's still sending us on this wild goose chase."

Suddenly, like clockwork, Veil appeared before them.

"Ah, somehow you've managed to botch this up as well. I leave you here to put yourselves back together and Mr. Saiyan shows his true colors. Is this how you repay all people who save you from death."

"I didn't have much of a choice in the matter."

"Keep telling yourself that, Saiyan. I'm sure your newfound powers won't last long so don't do anything stupid."

"Like demanding why you keep sending us to places that are either unreachable or full of crazy people?"

"Yes, exactly, like that."

"Maybe I should."

No one saw him move, but within seconds he was behind Veil with a finger pointed directly at her head.

"What are you—?"

"Interrogating you," Vegeta interrupted Veil.

By now, everyone knew what Vegeta could do with a finger so there was reason to hold one's breath.

"Vegeta, remember, she's our only way out of here," Ziggurat reminded him.

"Is that so? What good is she if she's just going to _continue_ trapping us here in this world of hers? You have until three, Veil. You start talking or I will literally blow your brains out."

Veil visibly cringed at his last sentence, "You liar, you won't do it. Your conscience—what about that? You'd never forgive yourself for killing me in cold blood, right?"

"You said it yourself earlier. I'm a Saiyan. Killing is what I'm good at. One."

"Vegeta, you can't mean to…"

"Two."

"What about Frieza? You couldn't kill him back there on your own, not when he was defenseless. _I'm_ defenseless."

"Three."

"Wait!"

The smell of singed hair quickly seeped into the hair.

"Was there something you wanted to spill?"

"Fine, I was sending you guys on a mission that would do absolutely nothing to stop the plague."

"Why?"

"Because, Avalon…I'm under orders by him to keep you guys occupied."

"Let me guess, he threatened to kill you if you don't cooperate."

"No, he offered me a position in the new world and I accepted."

"Can he be killed?"

"Yes, I'm sure…you'd have little trouble with him."

"Something's not adding up," Sephiroth cut in, "Why did you bring us here if not to stop the plague."

"I _did_ bring you guys here for that purpose, but you must understand, I'm under orders from Avalon. I appear to him in another form and name and convinced him that someone else brought you guys here—that 'someone else' being the person you see before you now. There was no other way to bring you guys here and still keep my marginal safety."

"So you're…on our side per se," Sephiroth concluded.

"Yes, I am, 100%."

"Then why didn't you just take us to him in the first place," Lang asked out loud.

"It would have been too obvious. He already suspected me so I had to wait until his suspicions were calmed before I made my move."

"What if I didn't believe you?" Vegeta said tauntingly to Veil, "How could you prove to me that you haven't been spewing out a pack of lies to us?"

"You _have_ to believe me!" Veil cried.

"Maybe your loyalty to Avalon is stronger than you're letting on. What is the _real_ reason you brought us here?"

"I told you already!"

"Turn around, say it to my face."

Veil slowly turned to Vegeta who had by then put his arm down. Her mouth quivered a little when she looked into his dark, depthless eyes.

"Say it," he ordered.

The other three—the Seer, Sephiroth, and Lang—had no idea what to expect.

"I brought you and the others here to destroy Avalon—that's the truth."

Vegeta grinned at her, "No, it's not."

His palm came up so fast that she hardly had time to put her arms up defensively, she couldn't help but to let out a scream yet nothing happened for the longest time.

"You're in luck, my time's up," Vegeta said finally.

The ki blast that should have wiped her out never had the chance to form.

"You were going to _kill_ me!?" Veil shouted angrily, "How dare you!"

"I could still do so even now."

"I'm on your side, damn it!"

She backed up a little from him as his eyes still glowered at her. But she was determined to keep up appearances. This hadn't been how she'd seen this situation going. They were all just a bit too rowdy for her tastes. She couldn't simply vanish right then, it would make her appear weak. Instead she crossed her arms, assumed a haughty expression and proceeded to telling them what she had planned to do from the very beginning. She didn't give them time to question her afterwards, she simply vanished.

The group found themselves on their own once again **.** Veil Publius had vanished from them and had parted after giving them specific instructions. They took it with a grain of salt. She was not to be trusted, but they really had no other source of information. The same motivation led them. They all wanted to get out of there one way of another.

"I hate to say this," Sephiroth said slowly as he looked at the empty space where she had disappeared, "But for the lack of leads, we must continue to follow her whims. However, we must be vigilant on finding some way out. At any point, if we can deviate from her instructions, we will."

"My thoughts exactly," Ziggurat said.

He looked over to Vegeta who still had his hands clenched. He wore a rather dark expression. "I…almost had her."

"And what good would killing her have done," Sephiroth said turning to him, "Besides satisfy your anger. There will be a time and place, but now would have been too soon."

"The next time I see her—

"You will do nothing unless I tell you you can," Sephiroth finished.

Lang who had silently watched their exchange grimaced at the direct order. Vegeta already seemed pissed enough and far too put off to be anything like civil. What exactly did Sephiroth think he was doing?

"Tch, like I'll let some freak tell me when I can destroy someone. She's _dead_ next time I see her. We don't need her anymore. She'll just continue leading us to our deaths."

"Well then, looks like I'll have to use force in order to convince you."

"Sephiroth, no. We don't have time for this! We're in this together, right?" Lang cried out as he positioned himself between the two hotheads.

"Rather than fighting, we should talk this out," Ziggurat said looking from Vegeta to Sephiroth.

"He has to learn his place," Sephiroth said never taking his eyes off of Vegeta, "It's tactics like those that will get us all killed—and I'm not willing to die for his stupidity."

"Why are you even here?" Vegeta said challengingly to the other. "We all know that you're not helping us out of the goodness of your heart. You made a deal, didn't you, with Publius. She's betrayed us so there's no more reason for you to be here."

Sephiroth smiled at the other—something that Lang found quite unsettling, "Why do you think I'm against killing her? I still want her to keep her side of the bargain one way or another. I didn't swallow my pride and play her little game for nothing. Once I get what I want, you can kill her and we can part ways. Everyone wins."

"What exactly is it that you want?" Vegeta questioned now that they were on the subject.

"It's nothing of your concern."

"Fine, but it doesn't help your case."

"So, what do you say Vegeta? You let her live for a while longer."

"Oh, sure," Vegeta said teasingly, "I won't harm her in the least until our illustrious leader says so."

"If you don't, there will be some dire consequences."

Lang and Ziggurat let out a sigh of relief. Even if it was a rocky truce, it was better than the alternative.


	7. Endless Green

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 7: Endless Green_

 **I woke up to the rather disturbing image of Vegeta looking down at me.** He was much too close to me. Today was going to be a great day—I could just feel it. Before I could tell him off, he spoke first.

"Your scent is different," Vegeta said matter-of-factly.

I sat up, though with some difficulty as it was the bare ground once again I'd been resting on.

"I had no idea you went about smelling people every morning," I replied lacking any hint of surprise I might have felt at the moment.

I received a satisfying frown from the other. He looked visibly perturbed as well he should be. Whether I smelled nice or not was rather low on my list of interests. But on that subject, perhaps we could all do with a shower or bath or with a bucket of water dumped over us. It was too bad we couldn't find something like that at the last village, but it was too late to turn back now.

Still, Vegeta was looking at me with concern and that started to bother me more than anything else. I'm sure he'd sooner kill me his self than worry over my wellbeing.

"Your comparison of me to a dog is duly noted," Vegeta said back sardonically. "For your information, no, I don't do that, but it was just...very noticeable."

"And is that something I should be concerned with?" I asked finally humoring the man since he would not drop the ridiculous subject. I might be the so-called leader of this rag tag group, but only a fool would intentionally put the most stubborn, obnoxious member into a bad mood. I'd rather save my energy for something more important.

"Maybe," he said thoughtfully, "Maybe not. If you feel any different...you'd let us know, right?"

I was at a loss as to where this line of thinking was coming from, but it was a reasonable question. "If it effected my judgement, then I suppose I would have no choice."

Vegeta nodded, satisfied with my answer it would seem. He still studied me with his dark eyes as if he saw something, but was debating with himself whether he should mention it or not. Just what was so interesting there?

As I finally stood up to evaluate the others, I noticed that I was the last one to awaken. That in itself was not a good sign. They must have been waiting for me yet no one said a word about it as we set off again. The sun was quite high by this time. It was probably the afternoons. Had I really slept right through the morning? Perhaps something was amiss, but I didn't feel any differently.

I could see the concern on Lang's face and it was beginning to irk me. Ziggurat was as usual impartial to me at least, but anyone could tell that there was some closeness between him and Vegeta. It was just as well. The hotheaded so-called Saiyan could stand to spend some time with his complete temperament opposite. I discerned from their thoughts that they were, in fact, discussing me and my condition. I don't bother with telepathy unless it is necessary as I could care less the arbitrary thoughts of lower beings, but sometimes it can prove to be interesting as it was at this moment.

Saiyans or at least this particular Saiyan appeared to have heightened senses and was quite superior to those of humans as it turned out. He mentioned my scent, but he also noticed discoloration in the eyes which was unbeknownst to everyone except him, along with some propensity in sensing energy levels within a person. According to his thoughts, that ability had been more accurate in the past, but now in this world it required more concentration. Perhaps that was the true reason he'd been watching me so closely as of late. As far as my own energy went, it was much lower than what was usual. These sorts of thoughts swirled about the Saiyan's mind. His more devious thoughts wondered if he should take advantage and then others telling the Saiyan that now was not the time, that he wasn't at full power and so was too vulnerable to strike out on his own. You know, the usual thoughts of Vegeta.

I hadn't told anyone of this telepathy that I still thankfully retained from the world I came from and no one suspected a thing. No one except Vegeta, of course. The barbarian had his clever moments and it was this cleverness that continuously amazed me. His thoughts were simplistic enough and then suddenly they would take on a genius quality. He'd suddenly pick up on the most subtle of things. It was more disappointing than anything else. It would mean that I had to watch what I said if I wanted to continue being a step ahead.

Ziggurat's mind worked differently. _Very_ differently, I might add. It was a strange mix of both human and computer-like qualities. It was akin to reading an essay written in extremely dry language and like all good essays they were informative. Sometimes his thoughts could be even insightful, but dull nonetheless. There was a distinct lack of personality there and it was only in exchange that I could so much as glean such a thing from him. Something told me though that had he been an actual human there would be little difference in that department.

Then there was Lang, the easily managed youth whose thoughts interested me the least. He was a sensible boy at least and quite easy to read telepathy or not. He never did or thought of anything out of the ordinary and for some strange reason he had taken a liking to me. Perhaps it wasn't strange as I've been looked up to in the past, but admiration was a thing I hadn't felt from others in a long time. It was oddly nostalgic. Of course, I don't regret the decisions I've made in my life. Rather I regret that a boy like Cloud could exist...but I'm digressing.

Lang walked beside me now as was his habit and Vegeta and Ziggurat brought up the rear—their usual formation. I could not see the other two, but I could hear them—especially Ziggurat's unwieldy metallic feet; it almost overshadowed everyone else's movements. It was because of this that I could immediately tell when his footsteps stopped which in turn caused me to halt. I looked back at the cyborg curiously and saw that he was looking about himself as if expecting something to surround them and instinctively I cast my sight about us.

Seeing nothing, I took note of his thoughts at that moment which was a bit more frantic than usual. His sensors were alerting him to incoming missiles. It was surprising to say the least given the nature of this world. If our powers are so easily suspended, such mechanisms as missiles should not be able to exist here, but then again, I don't claim to know everything. Obviously, there were ways to bypass this law and this was simply another example.

The cyborg thought of nothing but our safety—a trait that most would find admirable. He was always thinking, always setting up plans for any possible situation, always worried about the next person. Dare I say, he made for a competent leader were I not one already. It was obvious that the cyborg trusted his own senses and was then shouting at all of us to run. No explanation, simply that we should run. Had it been any other person, we might have hesitated, but this was the cyborg, the impartial machine who seemed to have no hidden agenda. I didn't make a fuss, I simply did as he wanted for practical reasons. I had no reason to disbelieve him.

So we ran like our lives depended on it. Vegeta heard the sounds of the incoming missiles first and then I too almost at the same time as the cyborg. None of this made sense, but I had long since given up trying to understand everything we encounter. Everything appeared to be arbitrary and I suspected that this was the norm in this world.

We were running through the soft sand and then we were running over the much firmer ground of a wooded area. Then we were through the trees and onto a grassy field which turned out to have a plethora of hills. As soon as I stepped out of the trees, however, I knew something was wrong. I knew immediately that I was alone. I could no longer sense anyone near me. I stopped midstride and saw with my own eyes that there was no one else.

How in the world could this be possible? There was no reason why we should be this separated. I started back to where I had come from and knew that the landscape had already changed completely. The wooded area that we'd been running through was no longer there. It was all quite strange and unsettling. Who knew if this was deliberate or accidental? I knew that the land was capable of changing, but I'd never seen it do so right under my nose.

Was it possible then, that purely by the strangeness of the environment we had become separated? In our haste, had the land itself disrupted our locations? If that was the case, then how would we be able to find each other again? Who would choose to live in such a world as this where no maps could be drawn and cities and villages constantly misplaced or becoming utterly unreachable.

I sighed to myself. There was nothing left to do, but to go forward. I hated the lack of options yet it was all I could do at the moment. At least the day and night cycles seemed fairly consistent. I watched as the sun slowly went across the sky as it should; the only constant in these strange lands. I watched as the sun began to sink into the horizon, the skies turn dark. That whole day, I'd not found any food or people. There had simply been grass and more grass. Fresh and vibrant though it was, I was beginning to grow sick of its appearance. Being alone was not something that bothered me, but it was the lack of life around me. There was no hint of other lifeforms besides plant life. It might have been peaceful had it not been so eerie.

For a moment, I pondered on the other's whereabouts, but only for a moment. I had my own problems to worry about. I'd been walking that whole day so when it finally became too dark to see anything ahead of me, I simply "made camp" in that very spot. It was all I could do. The serene, silent night lulled me to sleep. I hoped the next day would be a bit more productive.

* * *

 **I awoke to a woman's voice humming softly and the crackling of fire.** Judging by how the bright sun pierced my eyes, it was the afternoons. I'd managed to sleep through the morning again—it was getting to be a normal occurrence. I felt tired and worn out even after having what I assumed was a restful night. After my eyes adjusted, I sat up slowly to make eye contact with the nearby woman.

"Oh, you're awake," the woman said in pleasant tones when she noticed me.

She was sitting in front of the flames holding a stick with a chunk of meat into it obviously waiting for it to cook. The very sight of it made my mouth water and my hunger betrayed me as my stomach began to growl. The woman giggled at this. I still hadn't managed to say a word.

"This one is for you," she said, "I don't mind sharing."

The woman had short cropped turquoise hair, bright blue eyes, milky white skin, and a rather small stature. She didn't seem like one who spent a great amount of time outside, however. She wore bright red lipstick, small loop earrings, and a very out-of-place red sleeve-less dress. Around her neck was a yellow scarf which somehow seemed fitting.

"Are you a native?" I finally asked her. She didn't seem the least bit put off by anything. In fact, she was at ease.

One of her eyebrows went up questioningly, "No, do I look like it? I haven't the slightest clue where I am. In fact, I'm pretty lost. I woke up one day and I was here. It's not the strangest thing that's happened to me, but it's up there. I started calling out for people, but no response. Then I started walking and found you this morning. You're the first person I've seen in a while so I decided to make camp here."

"So, you're not from here as well. Although, you don't appear too startled about this."

"As well? As in you don't know anything either?" She sighed then. "Well, looks like I'm just as lost as ever."

I didn't like the phrasing she used. I did know _something_ , but obviously not the information that she was hoping for. "You've been here in this environment the whole time you've been here?" I asked cautiously.

"This environment?" she asked a bit confused. "Sure, yes, it's just been grass for miles."

"Where did you get the wood for the fire and the food?" I asked further.

"That was easy. I had it on me already," she said as if it were common knowledge. She reached to her purse and pulled out a few cylindrical containers. "See, these are called capsules, they can contain items much larger than itself. Good thing I had these with me or else I _would_ be freaking out. Oh, I think it's ready," the woman finished referring to the roasting meat.

I didn't ask what it was exactly. I was far too famished to care. She moved over a little so that she could hand it to me. I made no comment on these so-called capsules. I was unfamiliar with such a technology, but the concept did not seem too farfetched. The woman giggled again and I realized that I was practically inhaling whatever was on that stick—how embarrassing, but then I've always been far more prepared than this and did not make a habit of being without nourishment for quite so long.

"Do you want another?" the woman asked after I finished the whole thing.

"No, that was more than enough," I told her.

"Don't worry, I have lots more where that came from. I went grocery shopping not too long ago. It's _tiring_ buying all that food, but I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. If I hadn't fallen asleep on the couch with my purse on me, I wouldn't be so prepared. Now, let's just get the introductions out the way. I'm Bulma Briefs, scientist extraordinaire and I hail from Earth."

A scientist? She certainly didn't look like one nor did she give off a vibe of being one. I would simply have to take her word for it. Again, I found that I was introducing myself. I simply gave my name and that I hailed from a planet known as Gaia. It was clear to me that the world she came from was fairly modern as she instinctively acknowledged that there existed other planets. She gave me a funny look after my brief introduction.

"Is it just Sephiroth?" she asked.

I realized that she had given her last name and I had simply given her my first, but I had done so purposefully. "Just Sephiroth," I parroted back.

"Alright," she said with a shrug and letting the matter rest. "So, I'm guessing you've been here longer than me. What should we do now?"

I had no real plan and I had known this for a while. That much already bothered me. Now I would have to admit this fact to someone else—it was quite humiliating. "The land changes in an arbitrary fashion so walking in a straight line should be sufficient. It is impossible to know where exactly you're headed. I was just recently separated from three others I've been traveling with for some time. A woman who claims to have been the reason we were brought here has a task for us to fulfill and she promises to send us back when the deed is done."

Bulma's eyes widened at this. "So there _is_ a way back if I just stick with you. You don't mind, do you?"

For now, it would be advantageous to keep her around as she had food. Then again, I could easily do away with her and take what she had. The capsules seemed easy enough to use. Yet I hesitated with going through with this. A scientist could be handy to have around and...perhaps I could do with a bit of company. I was no stranger to being alone for extended amounts of time, but forgive me Mother she was easy on the eyes and sometimes I wanted to hear something else besides my own thoughts.

Outwardly, she looked like a bimbo, but apparently she was not quite. It was then that I came to the revelation that I did not have access to her thoughts. My eyes narrowed at this. I began to wonder if this "Bulma" was a real person or perhaps something else. I could not recollect any reason why I should be _unable_ to read someone's thoughts with ease. Just like that, my guard was up once again.

I put out the flames of the seemingly magical fire. There had been no logs underneath and yet it had been steady and strong the whole time. The technology on her planet must have been quite advanced indeed.

We began to travel aimlessly. Unlike the other three I'd been with before, Bulma did not notice anything off about me. Then again, she might have assumed that however I was now was the norm. There was no weird, awkward silence between us as she was capable of keeping a conversation up all by herself. She chattered away incessantly. I should have been annoyed, but at times I did humor her with a few things to say myself.

She spoke of normal things and normal problems she experienced on a day to day basis but she cleverly—or at least I thought so—avoided revealing anything personal about herself. Most would find her relatable, but I could not conjure up any similar experiences I had.

It was later on in the afternoons when we stopped to rest. Bulma had insisted and I pretended as if I was annoyed, that I could have gone on, but in reality, I was exhausted as well. There was definitely something wrong now. I could feel it. Perhaps Vegeta's observations hadn't been too far off the mark.

There was only a few minutes of complete silence until Bulma decided to break it again a bit to my relief. I wanted to be distracted from the dreadfully monotonous scenery, my growing apprehension of forever being lost, the thoughts that my weakness would increase in severity... And she did not disappoint although this time she caught me a bit off guard.

She looked at me as if she'd finally began to take notice of me. Her eyes were evaluating and she nodded to herself. She grinned at a joke that only she was privy to. "I bet you're quite the lady killer, leaving all those countless ladies in tears when you callously move on to the next one."

My eyebrows furrowed a bit at this. What she was implying was so preposterous that it gave me pause and left me bereft of words. She laughed at my confusion.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm not talking in a foreign language. Surprised I found you out so fast?"

I recovered my bearings. "I've always had little time for such things," I began, but then she interrupted.

"Trying to pull a fast one on me? How old are you anyway?" she asked then she crossed her arms and nodded in a sagely. "Oh, _I_ see—this is part of your seduction, right? Make a girl think you've been so tragically busy and lacking in companionship thereby giving you the appearance of innocence. What girl wouldn't fall for that?"

This woman had a vivid imagination. "Bulma, I assure you—I don't engage in such activities."

She wasn't satisfied with this response and it was now her turn to be confused. "But I'm sure you must have had _some_ girlfriends in the past," she asked. Obviously, she was beginning to believe me.

"Why must that be a fact?" I asked instead of going over the same statement.

"Wait a minute," she said in a tone that suggested she had come to a shocking conclusion, "You really _don't_ do that sort of thing. Never kissed anyone, never loved another like that—this day just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Don't tell me, you're actually...asexual."

She said it as if instead she'd just found out that I was some psychopathic maniac who took pleasure in seeing people suffer. I grinned at my own private joke and she must have took it as further proof of her assumptions.

"I don't like putting labels on things. Who's to say I don't meet someone someday that I fancy. Though unlikely, it may not impossible. After what I've seen of this world, nothing is impossible."

"But if that happened," she said with a knowing look, "You'd be woefully unprepared." She had her finger up as if she was giving me particularly sound advice. "And you seem like the kind of person who likes being the opposite."

Keen observation, I must say, seeing as I've given her little evidence to this fact. At this point I was unprepared in every sense of the word and I could not rectify the situation.

"Well, you've run into just the right girl to give you the lowdown. Just _think_ of how horrified that special woman or man might be when you give them that inexperienced kiss from lack of other partners. You gotta' make sure you sweep them off their feet. As long as you can get the kiss right, all that other stuff will fall right into place."

"You seem to speak from experience," I observed.

"Oh, I do! So we must practice while we have all this time to waste."

"Practice?" I asked again being caught off guard by her.

"Yeah, silly. I'll have you know that I'm married to the love of my life so I'm _completely_ impartial to all of this and you won't have to worry about me becoming clingy."

Married to the love of her life? I couldn't even picture such an individual that could tame this rather frisky woman. Would this same person be fine with the offer she was giving me? Was he some pushover that Bulma had complete control over? Women do like to have control over others or at least feel as if they do. It wouldn't be so farfetched to assume that this was the case for her.

She insisted that we be standing up for this affair. And I, well, was feeling less than enthusiastic about it. I wasn't eager, but she was looking at me so expectantly. I wondered what her face would look like if I disappointed her, if I completely denied her request. I suppose that would be an equally entertaining thing to see. However, I was curious. Mother, how did I get to this point? Contemplating whether I should kiss someone or not.

I wasn't completely ignorant to the activity. I knew, in theory, what I had to do. So, I went through the motions. I pressed my lips against hers and was done with it. Painless. Was that all it was? _This_ was the thing I'd been so woefully missing?

Her eyes had been closed, but they were opened now staring at me with complete disbelief. "What the Hell was that? You really have no clue," she said with widening eyes. "You really think that would make _anyone_ like you? It was like having a piece of cardboard pressed against my lips! _This_ is how you do it."

The woman pounced on me unexpectantly. Strange that I had my guard down enough for her to get away with it, but that was the least of my issues. She did far more than press her lips against mine. It was much more than that. Her eyes were closed and so were mine and we were like that for almost an entire minute. I don't think I've ever felt something like that before. Such passion, such strength and determination. It was nice, but I was completely out of my element. I pulled away first. At that moment, I knew more about lower beings than I ever had before.

"See? Speechless, right?" she said congratulating herself, "That's what you've been missing out on." Her eyes looked away from me then. "You should be thanking me, really. It's hard to do all that while kissing an almost literal cardboard. You gave me no response at all...and, honestly, it was kind of weird. I think you should just stick with hands instead of lips. You'll figure it out one day, I hope."

I noticed something different in her eyes. Was it fear? I was quite good at sensing that and though she tried to hide it I was still able to pinpoint it. Had she discovered something disturbing about me? In the same way that I had felt her, had she felt me as well? There had been nothing to feel. I had not reacted, but perhaps...that was my reaction. Maybe I _had_ given away something of myself. As emotionless as the cyborg seemed, would he have responded the same way in such a situation?

I knew one thing for certain, I would not figure out how to simulate the kind of kiss that Bulma had given me. Mother, though they are lower beings, there are certain depths of emotions that are impossible for me to imitate and you are the only being who I could love to such a degree yet I would never kiss you in such a way.

Such knowledge was incredibly satisfying. I could further understand the pain one might feel at the loss of an individual they could love to such a degree. That kind of loss was far more torturous than I gave it credit and I must have in my lifetime dealt out incalculable levels of pain on account of my usual callousness. It put things more into perspective. I do like when things come full circle. I derived pleasure from being the arbiter of pain and now I enjoyed it even more.

This woman had given me this knowledge freely and I was grateful. By the end of the day, I was able to imitate a reasonable kiss as judged by Bulma after I took up her hand many times that day. We never repeated the exercise earlier that day and something told me that she was avoiding it instinctively. Yes, she was very clearly afraid of me.

The land hadn't changed when nightfall came. I fell asleep easily, but the woman was still awake by the time this happened. It felt like only moments had passed when I awoke to the sounds of struggle and Bulma yelling my name like a banshee. I knew something was wrong in that instant, but I realized that I could not move on my own.

"As I said before," the gravelly voice from some unfamiliar man said, "he's under _my_ control now. Sephiroth, I want you to kill her, but slowly!"

I was able to move now and there was only one thing I wanted to do with this newfound ability. I waited for my eyes to readjust and made out Bulma grasped tightly by the waist against another who was taller than she.

"You're not making any sense!" Bulma shouted, "He won't do anything you say," she said defiantly. "Sephiroth, tell him off already!"

"But haven't you noticed? He woke up to _my_ command. He can move because _I_ wanted him to. Isn't that right, Sephiroth?"

I was standing before the two of them now and I wanted to slice the woman open, but that very implication infuriated me. That this stranger could even begin to think that he could exert control of me, the Chosen One. I could hardly even speak, I was so angry. My thoughts were my own and I would do only what I desired and not the other way around. I took the katana out of it's sheathe. My hands trembled not from weakness, but from the mental war in my mind.

Bulma's eyes had closed then as if resigned to her fate. How little faith she had in me, but then I didn't blame her. She hardly knew me. The stranger was laughing raucously now, pissing me off further. It was much harder than I thought earlier to regain control over my action. It was as if my own body was rebelling against me. I wanted to move towards him, but I could not. I wanted to cut him in two, but my arms wouldn't move. It was like pushing against some massive invisible stone. I was sweating harder than I ever had in my life.

"I think you've chosen your victim poorly," I said referring to myself and my predicament.

I finally took a step forward and every step after was excruciating. I ignored the pain. That was all I had to do to exert my will once again. I wanted the man to suffer. I wanted this man with the audacity to command me to feel the depths of his insignificance to me. I knew my own limits, however. I knew I wasn't at a hundred percent and prolonged struggle would be my downfall. I was no fool; I had to get this over with quickly. The wretched man didn't even realize the moment of his demise. He was still looking at me with that smug satisfaction as his body split in two and fell in harmless bloody heaps to the ground.

I didn't have much time to bask in my victory as I fell to my knees and dropped my katana. My body was betraying me once again but in ways I had not thought possible as I began to convulse. I was no longer in control of myself no matter how much I tried to counteract it. What exactly had that man done to me? I felt what strength I had left leaving me as well. The violent convulsions would not stop. Little by little they began to subside after a time and since that time Bulma had been near me. She could do nothing for me. All she could do was watch. I was embarrassed. I did not want anyone to see me like this.

She spoke when she thought I could listen properly. "That man, I don't know who he was, but I think he's been following you for quite some time. He just kept going on and on about being able to control you. Some technique that took time to take effect. It was so weird. I kept calling your name and you wouldn't answer and then he just clicks his fingers and 'poof' you're awake. I'm sorry...I didn't believe in you more...All that is over now. You're already getting better and-

I interrupted her then. The convulsions had stopped, but I did not feel quite so certain of my recovery. It did feel as if I was dying. I knew what death felt like. Perhaps this time hadn't been as grandiose as before, but I did feel death approaching. My eyes were struggling to stay open. They were fluttering trying to regain some sort of focus and my attempts were getting weaker and weaker. "Bulma...at least you'll still be alive...find Veil Publius, find the other three..." I honestly thought I could give her more information than that, but my strength failed me completely and my world grew dark.

* * *

AN: Random guest person who "reviewed" my story. You probably could have PMed me with that sort of information, but I've known about that petition even before the PS4 existed. I've signed and told all those who I'm associated with and actually cares about Xenosaga. So, yes, WAY ahead of you. That petition is pretty obsolete unless there's another as they never did get enough people to sign up. I'm not holding my breath either.


	8. Divine Intervention

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 8: Divine Intervention_

 **Vegeta had no great love for Sephiroth, but he did not want him out of the picture just yet.** He was a capable fighter and they could use skills like that in a world such as this. It was the only fact that stayed his hand every time he thought about abandoning him altogether. It was the same reason he paid closer attention to him. Even if he claimed not to be human, everything about him appeared human and his body seemed to work in an extremely human fashion. He shared the same heart rate, the same need for food and rest, and more interestingly, the _smell_ of one. Humans themselves had a wide range of scents most having some minute difference that made them unique from the next person and, of course, the longer he spent with them, the easier pinpointing such differences became. Even still there was an overall sameness about the entire race as it was with any other race he'd come into contact with and Sephiroth had a very human scent—so did Lang for that matter, but not so much the cyborg which Vegeta could not quite categorize.

Purely from living on Earth for such a long time more specifically with Bulma and the kids, he noticed there was yet another subtle change when sickness was upon them and even subtler difference based on its severity. These were only things he paid attention to when it came to his wife. The sooner one diagnosed illness the sooner one could treat and get over it. Nothing was worse than having to contend with a coughing, sniffling, and plainly miserable Bulma; Vegeta tried to avoid such things with astonishing vigilance.

He hadn't thought that such a random attention to detail would be of any use other than for those reasons until he found himself in this situation. Knowing one's enemy was one of the many nuggets of wisdom he lived by, but he'd not expected to be forced into working with one for the greater good. After all this time, he found out many things about the cyborg and the mystic, but not very much about the swordsman and he suspected that Sephiroth was not only purposefully closed off to people, but naturally so. He had to try other methods to attain information. Even still his knowledge of Sephiroth was limited.

He had, however, noticed the moment when the seemingly impervious swordsman was under the weather. Ever since the village on the beach, Sephiroth's usual scent was a bit altered and it seemed to be unbeknownst to him. After confronting him about it, he was genuinely puzzled and he assured the other that he did not _feel_ any different. Vegeta supposed it gave him reason to be a bit more watchful of the other's actions, but there was nothing more he could do on the matter.

Of course, Vegeta, informed the cyborg about it, but he seemed less concerned about the whole thing. They'd travelled through a dynamic array of environments and this could wreak havoc on even the healthiest of people. It was likely to pass at any rate. Such a reasonable explanation put Vegeta at ease and after the incident which forced him into running for his dear life at the behest of the cyborg such troubles were the furthest from his mind.

He'd been running through a sparse wooded area and he was still there when he became separated from the others. It was a thing that happened so suddenly that it stopped him in his tracks. As he looked about himself, all he could see in the distance was more of the same. In the snap of a finger he was alone. Though he had lukewarm interest in the others with the exception of the cyborg, he had felt a modicum of normalcy in their presence. The strangeness of his situation became far more pronounced in their absence and along with that came the hopelessness of ever returning home. How long would it be until the images of his family faded from his memories, they're voices impossible to recall? He shook his head at his darkening thoughts. He was still alive at least which meant he had the ability to try.

As usual, his environment was devoid of life. Hunger could be a bothersome thing. While it did make food always taste wonderful and eating had always been a joyous even euphoric event, but without readily available food, it was downright depressing. He hadn't been on an adventure of this scale in quite some time and he gained no excitement from it. Besides, his adventures were not for sightseeing but for the eventual annihilation of an entire race and during those times, food was scarce as well.

All he could do was walk forward, but only an hour had passed before the feeling of hopelessness crept up on him again. This time it was far more difficult to shake. Yet he could not bring himself to give up. That would be a slow, painful death anyways. He was not paying close attention to his environment, but he inherently had good hearing. He eventually heard the sound of footsteps behind him and he turned around instinctively.

There before him stood a woman with long, wavy blonde hair and dark eyes. Her skin was fair, exceedingly so to the point that Vegeta thought he was looking at a ghost instead of a live person. Her scent was distinctly human, but there was something off about her. She wore no expression at all and her bright red lips stood out on her pale complexion.

"Who are you?" she asked in a calm voice. She was soft-spoken but Vegeta's sharp ears heard her without much trouble.

"I was going to ask you the same question."

"Well, now," she said with a grin, "Who wants to answer first?"

"I'm Vegeta—are you from around here?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "My name is Sharon Sauer-Rozas. I'm assuming that since you asked that question, your answer would be the same as mine."

"Sharon Sauer-Rozas—that's a mouthful," Vegeta commented.

"That's what happens when you get married and you still want to keep your last name. You, however, seem to be lacking in that regard—no last name all?"

"My kind simply didn't have last names although humans are obsessed with it."

"Fascinating. But then, how does one identify with their own family?"

"Identify? As long as you know who your parents are, that should be enough."

"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully, "Then I suppose written historical records of your kind is quite rare."

"Saiyans weren't exactly known for being intellectual—at least not in that way."

Vegeta wondered how they'd gotten to this topic or why he was discussing these things with a complete stranger, but truthfully, he was in no hurry. There was nowhere to go, no heading, no idea if he would find everyone again.

"Saiyans, you say? An entirely different race from humans. Fascinating indeed. This world is equally so."

"So you're lost too," Vegeta asked.

She nodded slowly almost as if she was unsure of herself, "I suppose I am."

"You suppose?" Vegeta parroted confused with her answer.

"I must seem as if I'm in a daze. I apologize for my strangeness. I have simply been…well, it's hard to explain. Perhaps I can say that I've been experiencing the culmination of all my dreams brought to reality. That place was beautiful—it was all I could ever ask for. What I see before me now seems like the opposite of real as if I'm stuck in a dream I cannot wake from."

Vegeta's eyebrows had already begun furrowing at the beginning of her explanation. Now he was thoroughly lost and he did not know what to make of the woman. She appeared harmless, however.

"You must have somehow been brought here. Same as me," Vegeta said slowly sorting things out.

"I want to go back there. I don't want to be here."

"Well, that makes two of us. I want to return to my family, but I'm stuck here. And I really have no idea what to do next."

"You have a family?" she asked. "I do as well. You understand my grief." Sharon looked around herself and then her gaze returned to the Saiyan. "I suggest we start walking. Standing here won't get us anywhere."

"My thoughts exactly," Vegeta reassured her.

Sharon walked with a purpose much to Vegeta's amusement. She looked as if she knew exactly where she was going. If one could suspend reality for a moment, perhaps that was the case. The entire day went by and they were still in the sparse woods. Before it became too dark, Vegeta gathered what dry materials he could to make a warming fire. It had been a pleasant day, but there was certainly a chill in the air that would get worse once the sun was completely gone. It wasn't that Vegeta was overly affected, but his concern was for his pale-skinned companion who appeared vulnerable and weak.

Sharon sat down near a tree and waited for the other to finish. She constantly had on a dreamy expression as if her head was somewhere lost in the clouds. It was all very peculiar to Vegeta. He doubted he'd ever met a person quite like her. It was a good thing she had not run into anyone who wished her harm—she would not stand a chance.

There were no real logs to put for the fire, but Vegeta found other things. The woman watched with keen interest as he started the fire. Usually, it was no task at all to use a brief flash of energy to ignite flames, but Vegeta was also aware of other ways to get the same result when one wanted to conserve their ki. He'd found a good stick and had ripped off a large enough piece of bark from a tree. From there, he placed the stick betwixt the palms of his hands and twist the stick quite rapidly in his hand. It took no more than a few seconds to form an ember on the bark. Then he placed the faintly glowing ember on the tinder pile and blew on it gently until he could coax out a small flame that grew in intensity as it caught on the other dry material.

"Exquisite," Sharon said as he finished. "Where did you learn such tricks?"

"From being surrounded by earthlings…and boredom. I read it in one of my wife's books and decided that I'd try it as it looked interesting."

"Earth?" Sharon said, "Is that the planet you hail from?"

"Yeah, as it stands." He'd made himself comfortable near the flames somewhat proud of his achievements with the fire. It had been a long time since the time he'd referred to. Who knew it would come in handy down the line?

"I'm from Abraxas. I'm sure it doesn't ring a bell," she said with a small grin.

"Not at all," Vegeta said with a sigh, "And I've 'visited' many planets."

"A space traveler then," she said with a voice that indicated subtle surprise.

"One could say."

For one who had just recently discovered that she had been somehow transported to an unknown world, she was in good enough spirits. Vegeta wished he was the same. She also did not seem tired in the least. He hadn't done much that day, but rest would give him brief refuge from his painful hunger pangs. He knew he was running on E and also that it was beginning to affect his spirits. He'd known before that he might not be able to return home for some time, but now those thoughts weighed heavily on him. He seemed fixated on this fact and he was unable to think of anything positive. Perhaps he would starve to death before he solved any of the other problems.

"If you don't mind, think I'll get some shut-eye now," Vegeta said before she could start up anymore conversation with him.

"Alright, well…I'll try to keep the flames going."

"It should be enough for a few hours—I doubt it would last the night though."

It didn't take much for the Saiyan to fall asleep; it was almost instant in fact and soon Sharon was left to her own devices. She envied his ability to sleep so easily in such a strange, foreign place. He must not have been all that stressed out about their situation. She listened to his quiet snores. Usually such things would be enough to make her drowsy as well, but she was wide awake. The ground looked hard and uncomfortable yet the Saiyan had managed to seem comfortable and at ease. A space traveler, indeed. This was probably nothing new to him. She lacked his perceived confidence. Her eyes continued to stare into the flames which were becoming smaller and smaller. If she did not go to sleep soon, she'd be left in the complete darkness while conscious—and that was a frightening thought.

After a few more minutes, she lied down slowly and cautiously. She waited for her body to familiarize itself with the ground and then closed her eyes. For the longest time, it felt as if she was staring into her eyelids. Even with them closed, she would see the light of the flames. She could also tell as they grew dimmer and dimmer as the sleepless hours passed until she was left only with the soft snores of Vegeta. Was his presence not there, she supposed she'd be downright terrified to be outside in the pitch blackness of night. She tried to combat her mounting fear and she kept her eyes firmly shut.

At some point, she must have fallen asleep but she was not sure when. All she knew was that she was falling, falling into an abyss and there was no one to save her. She was sure she was screaming, but she felt disconnected from it all. At the same time, she felt her heart sinking and an immense sadness bearing down on her. Then she was being shaken awake. Her eyes barely wanted to respond. It was quite a struggle just to rip them open. When she finally succeeded, she was blinded by sharp whiteness and then as Vegeta's face came into focus. Immediately she could tell that he was concerned.

"Are you alright?" her weary ears heard him say, "You were screaming bloody murder for a while there."

Her brow crinkled at this, "I was?" she asked though it came out as a whispery tone—her voice felt overused. "I'm sorry…thank you for waking me…I thought…"

"Don't mention it," he said cutting across her, "Besides, it was more for my benefit—worse than any alarm clock I've had to endure over the years."

"Sorry…" she said sitting up once again.

The tinder pile was no more than a pile of ash. Vegeta seemed somewhat refreshed in her opinion. It appeared he had an easier night than she. Without further ado, they set off again. She'd already decided on what direction they would be taking and she walked in that very direction. It would be impossible for her to even be moving forward if she didn't psyche herself up every day saying that they were going _somewhere_ specific. She absolutely could not admit to herself that they were going nowhere at all and this was a complete waste of time. She looked up to the sky and new that it was early morning. They started bright and early on their trip to nowhere.

The days began to blur together and each night felt similar to the last, her dreams ridden with nightmares and her inability to attain true rest. It was also beginning to show and not just in energy apparently. When the other voiced his concerns over this fact she knew it had become painfully obvious. Surely he'd known before as they were daily awoken by her screaming nightmares.

"I'm not sure what to do," Sharon said unable to meet his gaze, "I just can't sleep out here without a proper _bed_ and some normalcy. It's always so pitch black at night. Who knows what's out there? How do you do it?"

"I've been in worse places. Trust me, there's nothing out here that can harm you. There's no creatures out here—I should know," he said drearily, "I'm sure you must be starving now."

"Food is the least of my worries—

"Must be nice," Vegeta said back, "To be able to distract yourself from hunger in favor of imaginary danger and uncomfortable bedding."

Sharon's brows furrowed a little angrily at this, "We can't all be well-travelled beings who have 'been in worse places'." She did not want her troubles to be marginalized.

But he seemed largely unconcerned with her brief outburst. His eyes were trained elsewhere on some arbitrary object as if he was somewhere far away. Now that she looked at him a bit more thoroughly, had he lost weight? He'd taken on a pallid complexion. Or was he a bit yellow? His vibrant, spiky hair seemed a bit…droopy. He might have been getting sleep, but he didn't exactly look healthy.

"I'm sooo hungry," her murmured drearily, "I wonder if bark is worth trying…"

"Tree bark?" Sharon said following his train of thought, "You know, we do eat plants in our normal diets. I suppose like all things there are edible and inedible—

"Would you mind…getting some for me…?" His voice sounded weary, but more than that very weak.

She looked at him with restrained concern, "It's right there in front of you—

"Please…" he said weakly, "I think I'm seeing…stars…"

"What?" Sharon said with surprise.

They'd been sitting down intending to start some fire before the sun disappeared completely that day. Now she moved a bit closer to him to evaluate him better. His eyes seemed out of focus and his breathing…Her medical knowledge kicking into gear, she drew closer still and placed two fingers firmly against his neck near his ear. He didn't react at all to her sudden intrusion. She couldn't feel anything and the…there, there it was, his pulse, but it was slow and weak—he was dying. Her eyes grew wide at this. She'd been hungry too, but she didn't feel as if she was going to drop dead. Tree bark, yes, that was the only semi-edible thing around.

She scrambled to her feet and clawed off as much bark as could fit in both of her hands and ran back to him. His eyelids were flickering, he was struggling to stay conscious and his breathing was ragged. Soup would have been a better option. Better yet, intravenous nutrition that would go straight to his bloodstream. Even if he managed to eat, it would still be some time before his body absorbed the nutrients. She could not imagine being here alone and she could not imagine watching someone die right in front of her as a medical doctor.

"Here, eat this," she said in a loud, clear voice. She placed it to his lips.

He took it from her grasp. In fact, he grabbed all that was in her hand and forcefully ate the nonappetizing bricks of "food". It was more amazing to her that he had the strength to eat the food. He was somehow able to gulp it all down, but then soon after he dropped off to sleep, his breathing not much improved.

It would be a very cold night without the warming flames. She still had to look after the Saiyan to make sure he continued breathing and she was already beginning to shiver a bit. After another moment, she decided that she'd lie beside him at first with her back to him (he was turned on his side), but then turned towards him to get the full extent of his natural warmth. No wonder he was not bothered by the cold nights, he was more like a furnace. If he was still able to produce as much heat from his body, it was a good sign. She buried her cold face into his warm chest. For once, she was able to rest peacefully. His calmness, his sense of serenity that was always so present when he was asleep seemed to wash onto her as well.

* * *

 **Sharon woke up on her own in the late hours of the morning.** The sun was up already and she noticed a lack of warmth beside her. She panicked a little until she realized that he was no longer beside her and _not_ a cold-hard corpse.

"Had a restful night?" Vegeta asked to her when she was fully sitting up.

He looked a little better than last night, but not by much. He must have already been up. She wondered how much more bark he had consumed. Better yet, was the bark even edible or were they simply hastening his demise? He was sitting a little ways from her as if she hadn't been cuddling into him last night. The thought made her blush. Would he bring it up? She was preparing herself for that moment.

"Yes, actually," she said. The nightmares had been kept at bay. "And how about you—are you still extremely hungry?"

"I'm always that," he said, "But I can manage for now. I just hope we find a way out of here soon; I'm tired of looking at trees."

Sharon looked around and as far as her own eyes could tell her, they would be travelling this terrain for quite some time, long enough for even her to be forced into eating bark and that's if she didn't die of thirst. The future did seem bleak in those regards. Yet, at least for today, her spirits were high. She'd found a solution to one of her problems. She hoped Vegeta wouldn't mind too much if she continued to use him as a safety blanket…

Another day passed perhaps not quickly, but time marched on regardless of her perception of its speed. Vegeta forced himself to dine on more bark and she tried some herself. Her mouth was quite dry afterwards. They had a fire that night at least mostly for her benefit. When the flames ran out the darkness settled around her. She sought refuge in Vegeta's warmth and fell into another blissful sleep.

* * *

 **In a way, Sharon welcomed the change of pace despite it being rife with danger.** She found herself running alongside the Saiyan as a flame covered bird flew towards them with seemingly singular intent. It was incredibly huge; its wing span was almost too long to make out where it ended. She knew she couldn't keep up the frantic pace and when she started stumbling, she knew it would eventually be over for her. In that moment, she could not understand the hands of fate. She'd been given a chance at happiness and she had taken it wholeheartedly only for it to be snatched away once again by something so arbitrary; it made no sense at all.

She fell for the last time and decided right then and there that this was the end of the road. Her breath caught in her throat, however, when she found herself yanked off the ground. It was Vegeta taking her failing body into his arms as if she was made out of feathers. She didn't want to be a burden and she didn't want him to know how grateful she was that she was still breathing.

"No, please put me down! We can't go on like this indefinitely!"

But he simply ignored her. He glanced back at the bird which had gained a few inches on them on account of him stopping to grab her.

"Put me down already!" Sharon screamed with more force.

"No, damn it!" he finally hollered back, "Now stop making it difficult and sit still."

She quieted down at his raised voice. It didn't seem like a tone he had too much difficulty reaching. He increased his speed much to her surprise and he did not seem to be out of breath in the least. Perhaps…perhaps they could make it. This extremely athletic man might be able to outrun the thing. She closed her eyes and prayed for their salvation. The abrupt stop, however, brought her back to reality.

She looked and saw that they'd just arrived at a sheer drop. She couldn't make out the bottom for all the fog. Behind, the bird was coming upon them and her heart started throbbing with fear.

"We're gonna' die!" she shouted in panic. It was too close now for them to make a sharp turn.

"If only I could fly," he said looking down at the chasm below.

Sharon didn't think it was the right time for wishful thinking, but she didn't have much time to think any further at his odd statement when he was running forth and gave a great leap out into the air. She shouted in protest, but then her heart caught in her throat and she screamed with all her might. His arms were around her protectively; she felt him tuck her head down. She braced herself for impact.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow. She felt weightless. No ground was beneath her any longer yet she felt safe and secure in his grasp. It reminded her of someone who she loved deeply. She imagined it was him. She imagined that there was a cool breeze brushing past them ruffling her locks and kind, gentle cerulean eyes looked down at her, his expression a mixture of despondency and joy. "You're safe now," he told her in a voice she could no longer remember.

And that was when she made impact jarring her out of her daydream. Pain coursed through her, but amazingly enough she was still conscious. She was face down on the ground, but she was relatively unscathed. She waited awhile for the pain to subside a little before she rolled over to peer up into thick fog. When she sat up slowly she groaned as a crushing headache struck her. She stayed put even longer before she chanced looking around. Where was Vegeta? She knew she couldn't bare standing so she crawled towards what she thought was the lying form of someone. The shape was a good distance away. It took her awhile to confirm that what she saw was indeed Vegeta.

"Are you okay?" Sharon asked before she even made it to him

She gasped when she was finally able to see his condition clearly. There was too much blood, far too much blood. The entire left side of his face seemed covered in the substance and it was already starting to form a puddle near him. There were little nicks and cuts everywhere on his exposed skin and through rips in his clothes. She checked his pulse and found that it still pumped. Her touch must have woke him, his eyes fluttered open and when he saw her he spoke what sounded like utter gibberish to her. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His head injury must have done something to his ability to speak properly. He seemed to stop midsentence as his eyes slowly closed again. She might have been able to treat him had she the right equipment, but she had nothing.

He'd taken the brunt of the fall and she'd been left with minor injuries. His stunt might have been crazy, but there really hadn't been many options left to them.

"Thank you," she said quietly to the man she didn't know very well, but who had taken great pains to secure her safety.

At the very least, she would stay at his side until he breathed his last breath. Then she'd be alone. She really would be in danger and there would be no protection. She was so intent in watching the other struggle for breath that she did not see another person emerge from the fog. She looked up when a shadow came over her. It was a young man dark-skinned covered in tattoos, shirtless and sinewy. His ears were uncommonly pointed and his eyes uncommonly bright.

"Please, allow me to take him back to my village," he said in a kind tone. "Our healers are quite good at what they do."

Sharon didn't have time to be suspicious—she readily agreed with the youth. He took Vegeta in his arms easily and Sharon followed. The village wasn't too far away and soon Vegeta was placed on a bed of hay in the largest hut where the healers treated the sick. There seemed to be three healers and all of them looked ancient. They spoke in a strange language as they casted their numerous spells on him. Sharon was waiting for them to clean his wounds and wrap his head in bandages, but nothing of the kind occurred. She became a bit frustrated with the whole ordeal. She felt Vegeta slipping further and further from her as his pulse became weaker and weaker.

She looked around for cloth, for anything that looked halfway clean for her to do _something_ of use for him, but still there was nothing. She wanted to yell at the old hags that they were doing absolutely nothing and that _real_ medical help was necessary. She looked at them angrily, but they seemed utterly concentrated on their task.

"He has a life-threatening wound," one of the old women said as their chanting came to an end. "We have implored our gods to heal him—only they have the power for something like this."

"Your gods?" Sharon asked incredulously, "But what can we do now?"

"All we can do is wait," the woman said in a calm tone.

"But there is good news," the second woman said, "He has a great purpose to fulfill in this world and the gods will take this into consideration."

"Alright," Sharon said taking a deep sigh, "I'll play your game, but you have to give me some water and bandages so that his wounds don't get infected."

"No, child, that would upset the gods. They must believe that we're utterly at their mercy or else they won't bother at all."

"What!? So you're just going to let him die?" Sharon asked unable to hold in her anger.

"Please don't say such things, child. The gods are listening and you do not want to make it any more difficult for him."

Sharon had no choice but to comply but that didn't mean she liked it or believed anything would come of their chanting. She wasn't waiting for the gods, she was waiting for his death. At the very least, he wouldn't die out in the open.

She sat beside him afraid to even touch him with her dirty fingers. In a way, it was better that he was unconscious. Otherwise he would be in great pain. His hair was bloodied and she could not properly see the wound which needed to be cleaned, but it was certainly a gash that needed stitching. These gods, whoever they were or even if they really existed had their work cut out for them.

Food was brought to her in the meantime some sort of noodle soup with odd flavoring. Though she was hungry, she found she had almost no appetite when she thought of Vegeta who was now unable to partake in it, but probably needed it more than her.

She didn't even bother leaving the hut. For the remainder of the day, she sat beside the makeshift cot watching his pitiful form atop it. In all reality, it was a miracle that he was still alive. She didn't move from her spot and eventually she fell asleep in that same position. There had been no change in his condition. No miraculous cure from the so-called gods and no subtle movements to indicate that there was even a hope that he was conscious.

* * *

 **The very next day she awoke with a good amount of stiffness.** Even this did not stop her from noticing Vegeta's absence almost immediately. She was on her feet in an instant calling for anyone to help. It was one of the three old women from before who calmed her down.

"There's no way he could have just gotten up and walked away on his own—not with those injuries!" she exclaimed.

"The gods must have heard our prayers. He is now in their hands, child. You must be patient and await his return."

Sharon simply couldn't believe her ears, but for the benefit of not causing an uproar she simply accepted the woman's explanation. These people seemed to really believe in these gods, but what if there was another reason? What if his head trauma had disturbed more than just his ability to speak? What if he was out there all alone, lost and befuddled? She had to make sure that this wasn't the case.

She didn't wait to get anyone's permission or even for breakfast to be served. She left in haste hoping to make good use of the sunlight. By the time she stepped out of the village limits, she wished she had a guide because she had no idea where to go. Not only that, but Vegeta had informed her of the strange landscape and its propensity for changing seemingly arbitrarily. The same thing could happen to her and she'd be forever separated from the village. Now that she had given herself time to think, she realized that it would be better to wait it out within the village and if he did not show up again, then she would leave. Even if Vegeta was out there right now, it would probably be impossible to find him anyway.

Considerably disheartened at her options, she made her way slowly back into the small village. Little huts littered a relatively small area. Her eyes sought out the young man who had found her last time, but she did not find him. The villagers were awake tending to their small gardens and chatting amongst themselves. She tried not to draw attention to herself, but she supposed it was a bit impossible seeing as she looked so different from everyone else. They had a rich, healthy brown skin tone, while she had a pasty white complexion which must have looked sickly to them. Even Vegeta was tanned to some degree. She spent little to no time outdoors and it showed. She began to notice other physical features and she wondered if she had stumbled upon a village of elves. Was it possible? Did they refer to themselves as elves or were they simply a race that looked similar to that?

When she made it back to the hut she'd been occupying before, she noticed a bowl of what looked like porridge waiting for her. Though she hadn't eaten much before, she still had not regained her appetite as she thought of Vegeta and how he could use such nourishment. She felt small and all alone. Perhaps her happiness was not meant to last. Perhaps she didn't deserve her family and her rewarding career. Everything was so different now from the world she lived in that she felt that this must be some sort of punishment.

She looked up when someone entered—it was the young man from before. Now that she could see him properly while not under duress, she saw that he was quite attractive in a foreign kind of way. The tattoos that seemed to decorate the entirety of his body including his face suited him well. He had a mocha complexion and bright golden-hazel eyes. His dark hair was long and unkempt falling about his shoulders. His face, however, was very orderly, even and perfect in every way. His eyebrows were arched in an elven kind of way as if it had been trimmed that way, his lashes long and thick, his nose narrow and rounded at the tip, and his mouth a straight line currently with a neutral expression.

"I'm sorry about your friend," he spoke to her in a genuinely sad tone. "The gods have accepted him into their fold and that rarely happens."

"Rarely?" Sharon asked considering his words, "You mean the healers were counting on something that had a next-to-nothing chance of occurring?"

"Your friend had a life-threatening injury and though there was only a slim chance he could be cared for here—it was better than certain death."

"But…" Sharon said a bit confused, "You said…"

"You were in shock and in order to avoid wasting time, I may have embellished on the abilities of our healers."

"So you…lied to me?" Sharon asked.

He sighed, "Yes."

Sharon waited for the other to explain, but he simply kept it at that. Perhaps there was no more to be said at the moment.

"Let me introduce myself. I am called Nehemiah and I have lived here in this village for all my life."

"And I'm Sharon," she said deciding to let the matter rest, all was going well anyhow. "A complete stranger to these lands and I'm utterly lost and have no idea where I'm headed."

"These lands are difficult to traverse on your own. I was surprised to see that neither one of you were Seers. Many do not survive long on their own."

"It's hard to see how anyone would."

"It is said that the great Phoenix bird will chase and burn down any who wander too long. It is an absolute death sentence—that is why we always stay close to the village."

Sharon's eyes grew wide at this. "That's it! That bird. That's the thing that chased us down. That's the reason we jumped off that cliff…"

"Then you have been blessed with good fortune. Not many can say that they escaped such a creature. What did it look like?" he asked in curiosity.

"It was a very large bird, hard to escape from because it filled up such a wide area and it was…on fire. If it had caught us, we would have been caught up in its flames. It's hard to believe anything like that could exist."

"Incredible. So the bird is actually the very thing that destroys its victims."

Sharon nodded, "And I would like not to see it again…but there's something I have to ask you."

"Anything."

"Where is Vegeta?—the one who was injured. Is he really with the gods or…"

"He is with them. No one has physically left the village through the gates," he reassured her, "But there is a place I know of," he started, but then stopped. It was too late, however.

"Tell me," Sharon demanded.

"He may not be there, but there is a possibility. It is not too far from the village and it is safe to travel to. A small temple where we go to pray. It is said that sometimes the gods use that space to heal those of their choosing."

"We have to at least check it out," Sharon said, "If there's any chance he's there…"

"I understand. We shall leave now while there is still light. It is unsafe to travel at night."

For a change, Sharon was being led by someone who knew where they were going. The trees looked all the same to Sharon's untrained eyes, but Felix began to point out the subtle differences in the bark patterns. When they start looking the same, he explained, that meant that one was lost and it would be next to impossible to return to the village. It was far too easy to become lost here, Sharon noted. It frightened her a little the steepness of the punishment for getting lost in the first place. It was actually a cruel world she found herself in and she couldn't wait to return to her home.

They made it to the small temple soon enough and it sat in a small clearing. It was aglow with a bright light; a fact that mystified Sharon immediately. When she attempted to walk closer, Felix stopped her with a warning.

"I've only seen this a few times, but when the temple is glowing like this, it means that the gods occupy it now. Their forms emit a bright light which can burn out one's eyes. We must leave."

"Wait, you mean, _the_ actual 'gods' are in there? Vegeta is in there, right now?"

"It is possible," Felix said, "They could be doing any number of things in there—Sharon, no, it isn't a good idea to—

Sharon had pushed passed him and had begun towards the door in earnest. That was when she spotted the door opening. She only managed to see the edge of the person opening it—a white light that her eyes distinguished for only a moment before she felt herself pulled away and thrust into Felix's arms, her head pressed against his chest.

"I can't _believe_ you did that," he said hoarsely, "No one can look upon the gods. Our eyes could not handle it."

She noticed that her eyes did feel a bit irritated—had it been simply from that glimpse? Her ears perked up when she heard the crunch of grass behind her. Was it her imagination or had the temperature risen a few degrees?

"Are they…are they behind us…?" Sharon asked in low tones.

"I don't know. Probably just one. I have my eyes closed," he whispered back with obvious fear.

Sharon didn't exactly feel fearful, but she did notice that Felix was that way. They stood silent for only a few moments before the silence was broken by a new voice—the voice of a god, Sharon presumed.

"I see a non-believer is in my presence. Is she foolish enough to come gaze upon me? Well, are you, child?"

There was a pause and Sharon realized that she had to answer. "No, but…Do you have, Vegeta, in there?"

"And she asks me questions as if she was my equal."

"I am sorry. She does not know our customs—

"Do not speak up for her. She has dug her own hole. Vegeta is here. A man who's destiny is greater than yours, child. Were it not that he cared about you, you would be suffering a much harsher punishment than a reprimand at this moment. We promised him that you would be safe. He has recovered quite well under our care. Now we shall help him in the ways of knowledge and he shall be able to access this knowledge when the time is right. Though we cannot help his cause directly, we may do so indirectly, such is our laws.

"We are the overseers of this world. We change this land as we see fit, though not in an arbitrary way, but in a way that would not be apparent to those at your vantage point. Felix, I want you to tell your elders to prepare a great feast that will be served tomorrow. Two-thirds of that meal will be for the Saiyan who requires sustenance—the rest for the others and their minuscule appetites. Usually, we speak through the Seers, but I tell this to you pious Felix. Consider it an honor."

"I will," Felix replied.

"Now leave us to our work."

Sharon had closed her eyes as well. She was soon being pulled along by Felix who was now making his way from the temple. She looked up to Felix with a confused expression. Had that really been some sort of deity speaking to them? Felix didn't speak until they were a good ways away.

"There are five gods in all and they work in tandem with each other. They might have all been there, but usually we hear from her: Angela."

"Five gods…" Sharon said to herself. "For all their powers, I bet even they couldn't send me back home. Are they all-knowing?"

"They are," Felix answered without hesitation, "And they possess great power, but like she said, they cannot directly affect the events of this world."

"Why in the world would they put that kind of limits on themselves unless…Is there someone or something else that's greater even than the gods?"

"Greater than the gods," Felix said flabbergasted, "Th-that's blasphemy—

"Alright, alright, sorry I said it. It's just that those kind of limitations really makes it hard for them to protect their world even though they preside over it."

"I think you misunderstand. They are _overseers_ not protectors. They maintain balance in this world, but they have also granted us free will in so far as it isn't blatantly used to cause destruction. In many ways, this world is self-protecting."

"And yet…there must be some sort of troubles in this world. For instance, why am I even here and what of Vegeta with this 'destiny'?"

"I do not know. Those are mysteries even to me, but I will trust in the gods. Even if there is trouble brewing surely they must have some way of averting it."

"Must be nice to think that way—gives you peace of mind," Sharon said with a frown.

"Sharon, knowing what role I play in life gives me the greatest peace. I do believe that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps it is your role to question things. Perhaps it is your role to accompany Vegeta or there may be something else in store for you—who knows? All we can do is continue on in whatever way we see fit."

"Continue on I shall," Sharon said after a moment.

She had no idea where they were, but they'd been walking for a bit so they couldn't be far. Tomorrow she would see Vegeta again if this Angela hadn't been lying to her and hopefully he would be whole again. She wondered why she was so concerned about someone she did not know all that well. She'd spent a good amount of time with him traveling, but they'd not gotten into too much details about one another. Still, he had become like a staple to her in this strange world and she would grasp onto even a wisp of normalcy if it was at all possible.

* * *

AN: Alright, I gotta give a shout out to Oblivion772 who has somehow managed to review most of the chapters. I'm literally writing this story for you, apparently. Happy reading and I'm already working on the next one.


	9. Dimming Lights

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 9: Dimming Lights_

Missiles of all things. They were so out of place that it was mind-boggling, but I had been alerted all the same. It could have been that my sensors were malfunctioning, but as the saying goes: better safe than sorry. If it turned out to be false, the worst that could happen is a bit of ridicule or annoyance. The alternative had far more dire consequences. I insisted that we run for cover and surprisingly enough no one argued. It seems I held more sway over the other three than I previously thought.

We ran and became separated all in the blink of an eye. I cannot help but think that my actions have adversely affected our mission. It could be that I was the only one separated from the others and that the rest were together—that would be an ideal assumption. I often leaned towards the worst possible outcome as it is more often true. All four of us were probably separated and completely lost in this strange world with no way of finding one another.

Perhaps I trust my sensors too much. They are my eyes and ears into this world. Without them I can hardly function properly. I've been away from my own world for too long, I fear. Sometimes I see things that are not there and on occasions I don't remember what has transpired only moments ago. The latter issue occurs when I am idle for more than ten minutes, particularly at times when the others are asleep and there is nothing for me to do. But more than that, it is the environment that troubles me the most. My sensors are ill-prepared for processing it properly. It leaves me with headaches sometimes even with nosebleeds as the auto-functions of my sensors repeatedly try to attain basic information about the environment. The others know that the environment is dynamic, but I am woefully aware of the extent. Minute details change instantly with no rhyme or reason, details that may not be apparent to the naked eye.

Still, even as I stand here gazing out into a wide river, my sensors remain in overdrive. This level of activity on a constant basis is dangerous, but all I can do is move forward until that point in which I can no longer. I feel a small trickle of deoxygenated blood, the likes of which is so dark that it looks almost black, come from my nose. I've not had working lungs in a very long time. What blood is left serves little to no purpose aside from keeping alive a human brain, but even that task isn't completely left up to that. While I do have some form of a heart left, it is used to pump blood through what's left of my circulatory system. It is all rather macabre to think about, but as I look at the ink like substance that I've wiped off with my metallic hand, I am reminded.

And always with that train of thought, I wonder how I am "alive". Technology in my time has truly become some modern version of sorcery and necromancy. I wonder if I might finally find death in this world which does not accommodate cyborgs such as me. The people we—or I have seen here have been low-level societies lacking even running water. If I required repair, there would be no tools in existence with which to perform it.

"Sir?" came a small voice from behind.

It startled me. The child had successfully snuck up on me. Oh, yes, my systems are severely compromised. I don't know why, but I expected MOMO to be standing there as my eyes sought out the girl's voice even though their voices were clearly different.

She was more of a young woman than a child when I looked at her. She had reddish brown hair long and vibrant tied up at the end, bright bluish green eyes and wore thick clothing that seemed out of place in the temperate weather. She seemed out of place.

"Are you lost too?"

"Yes—yes, I am," I replied still a bit taken aback by her sudden appearance.

"Sir, you're bleeding," she said with some urgency.

"Oh, sorry," I said quickly as I wiped away yet another trail of blood. I had not even felt it this time.

She stepped closer to me without any hesitation, reached up and placed a glowing hand near where the bleeding had occurred. "No need to apologize," she said back gently, "As I'm sure it is not your fault. There—does that feel better?"

"It does. Thank you." In reality, whatever she had done had simply eased the pain of a rather brief headache and in no way solved the root of my issues, but I did not want to seem rude.

She stepped back from me. "I'm Maya, by the way."

"Ziggurat," I told her simply. "Have you been here long?"

"No, actually," she said shaking her head. She moved past me as if to look upon her surroundings a bit closer. "But it is beautiful here, don't you think? The Life Force of this planet is robust and rich."

"It is it's saving grace, I suppose. I've never seen such vibrant color or air that is quite so clean."

"Watch," she said as she squatted down to the green banks of the river.

Her hands were cupped and glowing as it hovered over the fertile ground. Before my eyes a bright sunflower grew and bloomed. It was as if I'd been witness to a miracle. I'd never seen the like before.

"I didn't have to do much," Maya declared, "A mere suggestion can bring about great change." She stood up and many more sunflower grew out of the ground around her. "Beautiful."

"Is that your power?—to enhance the growth of flowers and healing?" I asked.

"This must all look strange to you. Sorry for startling you."

"Magic isn't a completely foreign thing to me. There is something comparable to it in my world, but it is far more artificial than organic."

"I see," she said with a nod.

"Well, Maya, I suppose we should continue down this path and see where it leads us."

The young woman simply came to my side with a look of agreement and we began down the long and winding path. We were beside the river the whole time. In fact, it seemed just as never ending as the path, but Maya never seemed to grow tired of it as her eyes would more often than not stray towards it in wonder. There was little spoken between us, but it was not uncomfortable. There was simply not much to say.

The day ran its course and soon it was night time. We took leave of the path and made camp off to the side of it closer to the wooded area beside us. It was drier there so starting a good fire would be made a little easier. Together we gathered wood to make up the base of it, but before Maya could attempt to set the wood on fire, I stopped her efforts.

"Allow me," I told her simply.

Fire and electricity were elements that I could easily recreate. It was a convenient ability seeing as we were without either. Silently, I wondered how the others might be faring. Sephiroth could manage on his own and probably Vegeta could as well, but what about Lang? A spark of light erupted from one of my outstretched fingers and it caught on the dry wood. Maya was clearly amused by the whole affair as her eyes widened with surprise.

"You can make fire so easily with your hands," she said gazing at the hand in question as if they were weapons of mass destruction—which may not have been too far from the truth. "I bet," she said as her eyes averted from me, "You could harm a lot of people with that kind of power."

"I am a combat cyborg," I told her point blank. There was no need to beat around the bush about these things. "I was created that way."

"Created?" she said probably picking up on the word choice. "Aren't you human?—like me?"

"I was, once upon a time, but after my death I was brought back as the thing you see before you now."

The poor woman looked speechless. It was difficult for her to wrap her head around. "But you're…alive now. Some sort of necromancy was performed and…"

"No," I said shaking my head, "I'm not quite 'alive' as you say. I'm a cyborg, a combination of machine and human. It is the machinery that is keeping me functional."

Now she was shaking her head, "But I'm talking to you right now and yet…you refer to yourself as if you were a thing and not a person."

"That is the point. As a cyborg, I am no longer human."

"No longer human…" she repeated slowly.

"Are you hungry?" I asked completely changing the subject.

The sky was fast darkening. We'd been traveling all day and not once had we stopped for her to eat. We were near a river after all and there was fresh vegetation as well.

"Don't worry about that," Maya said standing, "I saw a lot of edible things along the way. It won't take me long to gather things." She paused as she considered me for a moment. "Did you want—

I declined her quickly. "It's not necessary. Just make sure you have enough to suffice yourself."

She nodded and then went on her way. It didn't take her long as she had claimed and soon she had a bag full of edible plant items. It seemed that was all she would eat this day despite there likely being plenty of fish in the water. I did not press her on that topic as she seemed satisfied with what she attained.

"I suppose…you don't sleep either," Maya asked when night was upon us and the fire and the stars above were the only sources of light.

"No," I told her simply.

"Alright," she said although I was certain that her mind was teeming with questions. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Ziggurat."

"Good night, Maya."

She dropped off almost immediately and soon the only sounds I could hear were that of the night creatures clicking, scratching, and screeching away. It was a nice change of pace to hear that nature was still alive around us. Too long had it been quiet and bereft of life.

I did not sleep, but strangely night was not the only thing I saw. I'm sure my faulty sensors were the cause, but I did begin to see the silhouette of a figure. The rustle of a cape. I convinced myself that something was out there, but I did not move a muscle. It wasn't until it began to move that panic began to set in. I do not know why I reacted that why nor do I know who was out there. I couldn't move. All I could do was look. It moved closer and closer taking its own sweet time. I must have sat there for hours unblinking.

Finally, the figure stood in front of me unabashed. The sun was just peeking out. I knew who he was—the only person who could make me so completely immobile: Voyager. Certainly not one you would want to meet in the dead of night, I'm sure scaring little children came with ease to him. His skin had an unhealthy gray tinge, his eyes small, shiny, and red, and his knowing grin sent shivers down my back. Why couldn't I move? Were my emotions so out of check? Fear wasn't something that immobilized me, however, so it must have been something he was doing. He had immense power.

Then again, he was supposed to be dead. I had already crossed that bastard off my to-do list. This should not be happening. And then I thought of Frieza. Obviously, a nemesis of Vegeta who he thought was dead as well. Was this to be the fate of all of us? Were we to be haunted by those who had already been put to rest? Vegeta had been helpless too, but he'd had the benefit of others to help him. I was alone with a woman who most likely could only heal things not harm. Was I to fight him or die by his hands? The answer was made clear to me as he appeared right in front of me within a split second.

No words were exchanged, but then I suppose all we had wanted to say to one another had already been said long ago. One of his hands clenched around my throat and he lifted me with ease as if I was naught but a feather. He was no longer grinning in his hood, but a terrible anger had transformed his countenance. This was the thing he had wanted to do for a long time, but the pleasure had been robbed from him in the real world…or at least in our world. His hands clenched hard and quickly. Not only was I struggling for breath, I was in utter pain yet I could not yell out. Instead, I made noises akin to a dying puppy. The sensation of pain was a familiar one, but even to this day, I could not say that I had grown used to it.

I heard someone yelling my name. Maya. She needed to get to safety, but, of course, I could not speak for the death grip on my throat. I also could not turn to see her. For some reason, however, her voice was next to my ear.

"Ziggurat, Ziggurat! You have to wake up!"

Was I asleep?

Was this some sort of dream?

Despite my darkening vision, her image began to appear before me and then I was transported in an instant. Instead of being in Voyager's presence, I was…waking up or a better phrase, my eyes were opening to reality. At least I hoped this was reality. I truly could not trust my sensors anymore. I could not trust myself anymore. Maya stood over me with a concerned look. I much rather be looking up into her eyes than looking down into the eyes of my nemesis. Surely he was dead, wasn't he?

"What was I…" I began still befuddled about the entire situation as I sat up.

"You must have been having a nightmare. I thought you couldn't sleep."

"I can't…usually," I told her. But clearly that was the only explanation.

It wasn't impossible. In theory, I still had my mind intact. I was quite capable of having dreams. Sleep occurred when the body was tired and I suppose my body was quite tired, but rest could do nothing for that. I was not an organic being. If I was tired, I would remain in that state and my mind that doesn't know any better would continue to believe that I needed rest. A mind was a confounded thing to have in one so mechanized. There was no way in convincing it that it was futile effort on its part to recover my working condition. Would it then be a continuing phenomenon?

I felt for my neck to see if the pain was still there and to my astonishment—I gritted my teeth with a sharp intake of breath—it was certainly there. I was supposed to calmly analyze the situation, but I was frozen with the impossibility and utter confusion.

"You were…choking yourself," she said with a pained expression.

"Choking myself? Are you sure?" I asked in disbelief.

All she could do was nod. I could not do harm onto myself. I had been programmed that way and yet…When one was asleep, one's body is made immobile by the mind, but my brain does not hold much control over anything of my body—there is a distinct disconnect where the organic ends and the machine begins. Obviously, it was in response to the brain sensing my tired body. The brain cannot immobilize me yet I can still dream, I can still have nightmares. And perhaps in that instance, that infamous program which prevents me from harming myself is no longer functional thus what had occurred. This was a perfect storm. Was it intentional? Or was it simply something that would happen if ever I was unable to keep myself at full efficiency?

The nosebleeds and now this. Perhaps I would find my death here. But Maya was here. No person should be forced to witness someone killing themselves, intentionally or unintentionally.

"Maya, I'm sorry you had to see that."

She shook her head slowly in understanding. "It isn't something that's easily controlled, dreams. You must have had a very terrible one, but don't worry, while I'm here, you'll be safe."

She moved closer still and soon her hand was hovering there over my neck. Slowly the pain began to ease away.

"You know, I was really concerned when you said you didn't sleep. How can one live like that? Surely, when you're tired, you have to rest. Now…you can recover naturally."

"I wish it worked that way," I said as she pulled her hand away—she was done.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Should I tell her that I now know for certain that I was dying? My systems were failing me and my mind was perhaps the last thing that would go, my last defense against an inevitable death. Fitting that I should dream only of Voyager—he might be the last person I see before…

"Rest simply does not help me. Thank you for your assistance," I told her. "Have you eaten?"

"I will in a bit," Maya said. She was looking at me fully now. It was becoming harder and harder to hold her gaze. "You look like you're in pain and I want to help you—that's what I do, that's what I love to do, sir."

In a way, I was glad MOMO was not here to see this. If those same words had come out of her mouth, I'd be beside myself with despondency. Here, at least I could recover myself somewhat.

"I appreciate the thought, but there is nothing you can do for me. We should continue soon," I said back.

It was difficult even to say this with her now piercing eyes. This was not a little girl like the one I keep comparing her to. Maybe she knew already that I was dying.

She stood and gathered more of what seemed akin to trail mix and then said that she would eat on the way.

"Any idea where we're going?" Maya asked aloud around midday.

"Not at all. Usually, I'd be able to map out the area, but the world is too dynamic."

Aside from that fact, I simply could not map out the area because that functionality was disabled just like so many others. Only the essentials remained—the ones that kept me functioning. I did not care any longer. I was waiting for the point of no return. I wished Maya was not here to see my deteriorating state.

"So we're just walking aimlessly?" Maya asked.

"Believe it or not, that is the best that we can do at the moment. It's the exact thing I've been doing since I came to this world. In the past, we had a bit more direction. A woman, Veil Publius, would often appear to us—the other three that had arrived in this world around the same time—and give us instructions on where to go."

"Maybe she'll do so again," Maya said.

"We can only hope."

I did not want night to come if only to spare Maya from what I would do. It was startling how sure I was that I was going to harm myself once again. It had only happened once and yet I'd convinced myself of a pattern. I tried to stay awake, but I had no idea when I fell asleep. I just had the sinking feeling that rest was already upon me.

There was Voyager once again. Slowly moving to my position and then at the last second appearing right before me. He did not try to choke me this time. Instead, he simply rammed his arm through my chest and out the other side. I thought I might have been screaming in pain, but instead I heard that of Maya. And I was awake again just like that.

I was on the ground looking upward in immense pain. I'd not even pulled my own arm out of myself yet, I had to do so while I was conscious. More pain, but this time far more blood, dark and oily. I was beginning to feel faint. The image of Maya at once concrete beginning to fade.

"Damn it, I won't let you die! Stay with me, okay? Stay with me," she cried out.

I could feel her warm healing hands, but nothing could stop the approaching darkness despite it being morning.


	10. Lucid Specter

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 10: Lucid Specter_

One moment he was watching Sephiroth closely, the next he was utterly alone. It was a waking nightmare of his that he had often. He'd have to remind himself almost every day that he wasn't alone, that there were others with him. He tried to take solace in this. He desperately wanted to believe that he could count on the people around him, but there was always that awful feeling at the pit of his stomach that it would all fall apart. The funny thing was, he knew that he wasn't too far from the truth. He was not amongst friends, he was amongst strangers who did not get along very well with one another. There was no true bond between them. They were simply together by circumstances and that scared Lang the most.

What if one day he did wake up and they were all gone? Finally the day had come when that was the truth and not a dream he could wake up from. He looked around himself and saw no one. A very cold feeling began to grow inside him. There were only rolling grassy hills, some decorated with flowers others weren't.

"Is anyone there?!" Lang shouted.

But no one answered. He was all alone. That was when the tattoo on his chest began to shimmer and warm. Soon Galea stood before him with eyes that seemed accusing.

"You're never alone," Galea said, "I'm always here."

"I know that," Lang said looking away, "I talk to you all the time."

"Not lately," Galea observed, "You've barely called me forth for anything."

"There was never a need…"

"Does there have to be?" Galea asked.

"It just isn't the same." Lang was gazing at his surroundings now. "What should I do now?"

"You're asking me? Your guess is as good as mine."

Lang started in a direction and then continued down that route for a time before starting in another and doing the same. He was lost. He supposed that had always been the case, but with the others around it had become less of a concern. Where was Veil to guide him now? Were the others in the same situation? Would he ever find them again?

"We just have to keep moving," Galea said to the sullen youth, "Maybe something will happen, maybe we'll run into a village."

"That's a lot of maybes," Lang said in observation.

"Well it's better than _no_ thing which is what will happen if we just sit here."

With Galea's support, Lang did in fact keep a good pace or at least what felt like a good pace. There was no path to follow and Lang felt as if he was going in a circle. He tried to avoid the hills, but there were so many of them that he found himself climbing up and down its slopes which tired him out far quicker than usual.

It was the longest day of his life. The minutes dragged on and on. He was basically forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other. He welcomed the night. Perhaps a good night's rest would help him cope a little better.

* * *

Lang awoke in the early morning, eyes squinting at the brightness of the rising sun. He started to stretch as he usually did before he was interrupted.

"Lang, so you're awake."

Lang turned quickly to the new voice he knew to be that of Ziggurat. It was nice to hear such a strong, sensible voice—surely he would know what to do. In fact, he had no idea how he'd found him once again, but he didn't care, he was simply glad. And there he was standing in front of him as if all was well. He couldn't stop himself from leaping to his feet and hugging him outright. It had only a day. A day and Lang was already missing the company of others.

Ziggurat was firm and solid and real…and predictably startled by the other's odd behavior, but, in the end, returned his embrace.

"Has it been that long?" Ziggurat asked.

"What are you—how did you get here?" Lang asked pulling away from him.

"I don't know. My sensors have been unreliable as of late. It is becoming more difficult for me to determine what's real or…"

"Don't worry—I'm pretty sure I'm real."

"You're only 'pretty' sure?" Ziggurat asked.

Lang hesitated and then corrected himself. "I'm certain—I'm very certain."

"Hmm…" Ziggurat said after a moment. "You seem real enough, but then what of Maya? She must have healed me somehow…"

"Maya?" Lang asked; that name immediately ringing a bell. But surely he couldn't be talking about the Maya that he knew. Then again, Ziggurat had mentioned that she could heal just like the Maya that he knew.

"Do you know her?" Ziggurat asked.

"I think so. But what are the odds? I mean, why would she be here?"

"She's a friend of yours?"

"Yes, I've known her for awhile now."

"Perhaps she was brought here under the same circumstances."

"But if that's the case, how can we find her again? She was with you before and now that you're here, she must be alone…"

"We don't know that. The same thing could have happened to her."

"I hope so," Lang said with a sigh.

It was all he could do at the moment. Yesterday, things had felt so hopeless, but now Ziggurat was here and possibly even Maya. A good night's rest seemed to have brought him many good things. If this could happen so suddenly, perhaps finding the others wasn't nearly as impossible as he'd thought.

The cyborg wasn't exactly talkative, but he was good company. There was an air of positivity that simply was not there with Sephiroth. Though they were both lost and in the same boat, Lang felt somehow safer and more confident about their situation.

Only a few hours into the morning, Lang made out a dark figure heading their way and he immediately alerted Ziggurat about this in an excited manner—this could be Maya. Once Ziggurat laid eyes upon it, he stiffened.

"Can you tell who that is?" Lang asked noticing his strange reaction.

"It's him…the man of my nightmares—Voyager."

"Should we run?"

"What would be the point? He'd catch us anyway."

"But we can fight him, right?"

Ziggurat's eyes closed. "One can always try."

"Listen," Lang said as he turned to the other, "I don't know how powerful he is, but we need to work together if we're going to have a chance at all."

"We won't have a chance either way."

Lang placed his hands on the other's shoulders. He felt the need to shake him so that he could speak with more sense. "It sounds a lot like you're giving up and that isn't like you at all."

Ziggurat was looking at him squarely now with steely eyes that quieted his anxiousness. "You have no idea what I'm like." He moved away from the other's clutching hands. "I was simply stating fact. We do not stand a chance. I've fought him many times in the past. But I will not simply give up."

"Alright," Lang said satisfied with this.

But if the cyborg felt as if they didn't stand a chance, there was probably a good reason for this. When the figure became more defined and Lang could barely make out his face, a cold fear overcame him. Voyager wasn't even looking his way. His eyes seemed concentrated on Ziggurat and Lang was secretly grateful for this—he wasn't sure he could handle such a gaze. Lang turned to Ziggurat when he hadn't moved at all. It was as if an unspoken communication was occurring between the two.

"Ziggurat," Lang said urgently. "Ziggurat," he repeated.

He was utterly silent and still. Lang turned to the hooded man who slowly raised his arm toward Ziggurat with palms pointed outward. Lang wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew it couldn't be anything good.

"Let him go!" Lang shouted as his hand reached down to unsheathe his blade.

But Lang was never able to do it, frozen, it seemed, by fear when Voyager's gaze turned to him. Then, no matter, how hard he tried, he could not move.

"Your soul will be mine," Voyager said as he returned his attention to Ziggurat. "Isn't it about time, Jan, to answer the curtain call?"

"You can't just let him—

"Quiet, child. It is done. It is finally done," Voyager said.

"What's done?" Lang asked.

Voyager brought his outstretched arm closer to himself, his palm now facing upward. A bright, almost blinding ball of light showed there levitating on its own accord. A grin settled on his face.

"Wilhelm was right, his soul is quite beautiful. A shame that it was hidden in such…a hideous shell."

Lang's eyes widened at this. Was this…? Was that thing in his palm, Ziggurat's soul?

"And that shell is no longer needed."

Lang realized now why he was so nonresponsive. The whole time, Voyager had been ripping what Lang assumed was his soul out of his body. Until that moment, Lang wondered if he could consider a cyborg "alive", but this was proof enough. All in the blink of an eye, Voyager ended Ziggurat's life. He fell to his knees and eventually laid lifeless upon the ground. When Lang looked up again, Voyager was no longer there.

"Ziggurat," Lang said quietly. He had to make sure.

Now that he could move again, he dropped to his knees and pulled the other towards him. How could he be sure? He was a machine after all.

"Please, don't…" Lang whispered.

He sat there for several long minutes before Ziggurat's body began to disintegrate before his eyes. Slowly, it turned into particles that faded into the air until Lang was left with nothing. His eyes began to irritate him as moisture began to form upon them. He'd been there the whole time and there had been nothing he could have done just as Ziggurat had said. How could he have been so calm about it? He climbed back to his feet and began to walk forward. His tattoo began to glow and Galea revealed itself, but Lang plainly ignored him as he marched forward.

Voyager would not get away with what he'd done.

* * *

Regretfully, he hadn't known the cyborg very well, but he seemed like someone he could trust. He seemed like someone who did not deserve the kind of death that Voyager had dealt out. Every fiber of his being wanted to avenge his fallen comrade even though at the moment it was quite impossible. He didn't even know where to start.

Watching Ziggurat die so easily made him begin to think of the other two. How were they faring? Were they already dead? Was he the only one left?

A day passed and then another and things were returning to its monotonous routine. Ziggurat's death still hadn't left his thoughts even as he stumbled across one of the most unlikeliest of people to meet—Vegeta. At first, Lang thought he was dreaming, but it was true, he had actually found Vegeta.

"How in the world—what are the chances?" Lang asked—it seemed it was his go-to questions in such situations.

"What are the chances of anything happening?" Vegeta answered back with a question. "I don't know how I could have survived that fall…It feels just like that time I first got here to this world. Maybe Veil had something to do with our reunion," Vegeta finished thoughtfully. "I can't help but wonder what happened to Sharon…"

"You were with someone?"

"Yeah, a woman—a bit spacey, but an innocent nonetheless. She was just as clueless as to why she was here as we once were. I hope she's safe or that she doesn't meet anyone who means her harm."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Lang said to reassure the other.

Vegeta grinned. "There's no way you can be sure about that, but it's a nice thought. How about you? Met anyone besides me after we separated?"

Lang looked away. "…Ran into Ziggurat."

"You did? Where is he?"

Lang looked at the other and then shook his head."

"You can't mean…"

"I'm sorry. I was there and I—

"Who?"

"All I did was stand—

"Lang, who did this?" Vegeta repeated.

"He said his name was Voyager."

"Ah, the Black Testament he told me about. There was nothing you could have done anyway. But I will find the bastard who did this and make him think twice about doing something like that again."

Before Lang could respond, Vegeta was tackling him down to the ground just as a loud explosion went off exactly where he'd been standing.

"A ki blast? Out here?" Vegeta asked already back on his feet even as Lang was still in daze. "You stay here—I'll take care of this."

"No, I'm helping you."

But Vegeta was already running towards their new assailant. Things were moving so fast, Lang barely knew what was happening. There were explosions and smoke and then he couldn't see anything for a very long time. He at least had his sword out. He was looking anxiously for the one who was attacking but only felt a sudden impact upon his blade he had just brought up for defense. His defense broke, however, and he felt a jarring pain in his abdomen.

He was bent over in pain in a second. He waited for another hit, but it never came.

"Pitiful joke of a team. I only came for Vegeta—and he was an easy kill. For all his talk, his bite was laughable."

Before him stood a reptilian-like man though not in the same vein as Frieza.

"I'm known as Cell, if you wanted to know. I would kill you right here and now, but," and here he shrugged, "I don't want to waste my energy on a nobody like you."

"Why you! I won't let you get away with this!"

Lang charged at the other. For some strange reason, the lizard man just stood there with a triumphant grin on his face. When he swiped his sword horizontally at the other's torso, the blade felt like it struck brick and the backlash reverberation nearly broke his hand altogether.

"Ah!" Lang shouted as his sword fell to the ground harmlessly.

Cell laughed heartily enjoying his display. "Vegeta put up more of a fight than you, boy. I forgot how pathetically weak humans were."

Lang was holding his hand in pain, but still mustered the will to look back up at the other defiantly. "I'm just getting started."

"No," Cell said wagging his index finger teasingly at him. "You're not even a blimp in my eye. Goodbye."

Cell stepped closer to Lang and then with a flick of his finger sent Lang flying for miles. All Lang could hear was his fading laughter in the distance. Then he collided with the earth and skidded back for a few more yards before settling on the ground on his back. He was dazed, but still conscious. He had to find Vegeta. Surely a man who could face Sephiroth and survive could not have been brought down so easily.

Lang found it difficult even to walk in a straight line. That last attack had affected him more than he wanted to admit. It took him a bit to find Vegeta, but he eventually found him face down on barren ground mangled and bloodied. Lang couldn't quite believe the violence that had taken place in such a short time.

And he was already beginning to dissipate.

"No…no, please—not you too!"

Saiyans were supposed to be durable, able to withstand high levels of injury. Yet here he was watching Vegeta's corpse vanish right before him. Just like before, his eyes began to irritate him. His eyesight became blurry. He wiped across his face to clear his vision though the burning sensation was still there.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there in wonderment and growing despondency, but he was certain he hadn't heard the approach of another person. He was thoroughly startled.

"Why so down, Lang?" the newcomer asked.

"Sephiroth?!" Lang exclaimed, but before he could even leap up and embrace the other, Sephiroth sidestepped him and Lang found himself grasping at air.

"It's as if several bombs went off around here. Tell me, what's happened?"

And Lang told him everything starting from when they were separated. Apparently, their separation was destined to be short-lived since Lang had managed to run into all of them.

"I see," Sephiroth said after hearing the story.

"Is that it?" Lang asked incredulously. "They're dead. They're all dead. We need to watch each other's back."

"There really isn't much of a "team" left and I have little motivation in continuing this charade. I could care less what happens to you or to anyone else."

"You can't mean that."

"Of course I do. It's as if you _haven't_ been traveling with me for all this time. Or are you truly that naïve?"

"As long as you don't plan on striking me down where I stand—I will follow you. Even someone like you might need some help."

Sephiroth only responded with a singular "hm". Lang sought out his sword and bent to pick it up with his dominant hand forgetting that it was quite sprained and dropped it with a very audible groan.

"Oh, yes, I have much need of a lame swordsman," Sephiroth said watching the other.

Lang used his other hand to pick up his blade and sheathe it. "I've practiced using my blade with both hands. It may not be my dominant hand, but I can still manage."

"Try to keep up then, swordsman," Sephiroth said turning from the youth and starting off in an arbitrary direction.

Lang sincerely hoped that they could make it to the next day without mishap. He was far more alert than he'd ever been before. His muscles tensed at even the smallest of off sounds real or imagined. All day, all he could see was the long white locks of Sephiroth's hair. Sephiroth walked ahead of him and Lang had no mind to walk side by side. He got the feeling that Sephiroth preferred his personal space over all else.

There was no exchange between them. Sephiroth was lost in his own world and Lang was too timid to even begin to break the silence. He felt it as a privilege that Sephiroth was letting him tagalong and he did not want to make him angry and change his mind.

When night time came, they were forced to stop as there were no moon that night. Lang sat quietly. He knew Sephiroth was still awake as he did not hear his sounds of sleeping.

"Lang, you're an utterly normal boy—have you ever fallen in love with someone before?"

It was such an out of the blue question that Lang was momentarily speechless, but at least Sephiroth still acknowledged his existence. Lang decided he would answer without giving the other a hard time about it.

"Yes…though it was never returned."

"And how does that make you feel?—falling in love."

"It's hard to put to words really. It's just a feeling like you've never had before. Like you could spend the rest of your life with that person. Like that person is somehow a part of you—a piece that you didn't know you were missing."

"Do you think everyone is capable of that sort of feeling?"

"Sephiroth, where is all this coming from? Do you like someone?"

"That would be impossible, but the idea of love intrigues me."

"Why is that?"

"Because of how easily it can be used and manipulated to create a lasting pain. Now I do somewhat regret the others' deaths. They'd be able answer things better than a boy who's barely experienced life."

"It's not rocket science," Lang argued, "And they probably wouldn't have anything better to say."

"Yet you can barely describe it. Do you really think that cyborg wouldn't have a mouthful to say? Something about him makes me think he knows a great deal. Did you notice how perpetually despondent he was? Some tragedy must have befallen him, something involving the heart I suspect. Even Vegeta might know more—he, who apparently had no conscience once upon a time. Only something drastic could change a man like that."

"You've been thinking a lot about this, haven't you?"

"Ever since I met that woman Bulma. I somehow got separated from her. I can't imagine she'd live for long on her own."

"So someone was with you as well? Geez, sounds like you didn't give her the cold shoulder as fast as you did me."

"She wasn't nearly as annoying as you."

"Annoying?"

"Clingy," Sephiroth said finding a better word.

" _I'm_ too clingy? We're supposed to help each other—

"See what I mean?"

Lang heard the other lay down. "Fine, I'll try not to be so clingy in the future."

"That would be nice," Sephiroth said with a yawn.

It didn't take Sephiroth long to find sleep, but Lang was still too wired up. Even more than that, he was hypersensitive to any danger. Sephiroth was the only one left. Without him, he would be completely alone and Lang dreaded this the most. Whatever happened, however strong and capable Sephiroth thought himself, Lang would continue to look after the tall swordsman with the utmost of his abilities.

* * *

Of course there was no food the next morning, but Lang was beginning to feel it. It had been days since he last ate something, but he chose not to complain about it for Sephiroth's sake. Lang was still following the other diligently. Nothing had happened in the first few hours of their travel that day, but his heart was still thumping with anticipation. As soon as Sephiroth paused as if he'd sensed something, Lang already had his sword out. Sephiroth slid his rather long blade out slowly.

"What is it?" Lang ventured.

"Enemies…There do you see them?"

Little bodiless faces floated towards them now out of seemingly thin air. They were so creepy that Lang wanted to finish them off quickly.

"I remember these…"Sephiroth muttered to himself.

Lang might have heard, but he did not think it would be a good idea to stall any longer. The floating heads were moving towards them and there looked to be a lot of them. He cut down four of them at once.

"Wait!" Sephiroth shouted urgently.

It was as if he had just set off a minefield. They were surrounded now on all sides and the creepy little heads were close enough to the next one to be touching. Sephiroth's warning was too little too late as one by one each little head either exploded or sent out a bit of healing magic. All it would take was one explosion to set off four more little heads. They really had no defense against any of it. Lang suspected even just touching them would have the same effect and there was now no room to go around them.

Dust began to pick up. Lang lost sight of Sephiroth and he began to panic.

"Not again…" Lang whispered to himself.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not find Sephiroth and he kept running into more heads and there was always more explosions going off in the distance. Strangely enough, very few of his heads exploded. Most of them were healing him. Somehow, Lang knew this couldn't be the case for Sephiroth.

"Sephiroth!" Lang started to call out urgently. "Sephiroth!"

Lang had to wait for the dust to settle once again before he could find him. He did not look in good condition. His torn clothes, the amount of bleeding wounds indicated that he had not been as lucky as Lang. His sword had been struck into the ground and his hands grasped the handle as his kneeled form leaned against it.

"Are you…okay?" Lang asked tentatively when he approached the other.

Lang knew he didn't like to be touched so he kept a respectable distance. His body shuddered as he coughed out a nice amount of blood.

"Pathetic, isn't it," Sephiroth finally said surprisingly clear. His head rose up as he sought out Lang.

They were unseeing eyes, Lang realized, when Sephiroth did not immediately find him. His sight must have become damaged in all the explosions.

"I'm here," Lang said moving closer to him. He sat down beside the other. "I'm right here."

Sephiroth's hands abandoned the sword as they felt for Lang much to his surprise. This was the most Sephiroth had ever interacted with him as his hands found his face eventually and ran down the length of it in a gentle way. They were soft, feminine hands as if he spent his days getting manicures rather than fighting, but Lang knew him to be an accomplished warrior. And Lang could not stop himself from blushing as the other perused his face.

"There…" Sephiroth's said softly, almost inaudibly. When he was satisfied, his hands left the other and instead found place on the ground to hold himself. Another cough wracked his body and more blood came forth onto the ground.

Lang was too immobile, too scared of what the other might do if he tried to comfort him. There were simply too many mixed signals to contend with and Lang wanted the other to save his strength.

"…Those stupid two-faced monsters…I haven't seen the like in ages," Sephiroth said as his eyes looked mostly in his direction. "And, of course, I have the worst luck…I honestly thought…I could handle more than that."

"Sephiroth, don't worry—You're still alive. You just need rest."

"If I close my eyes, I won't be opening them…I think…I think I can see you once again…"

Throwing caution to the wind, Lang moved in to help him up just before his body gave out altogether. Lang had not anticipated the other falling into his arms like that and probably Sephiroth had not either, but the tall swordsman did not have the strength to protest. Lang tried to hold him up but his body had become limp as he held him in an embrace now. Lang could hear him still breathing, but eventually it slowed until there was nothing left.

This time his eyes irritated him, they moistened, and then tears came forth. Once they started, they would not stop and Lang did not care to stop them.

* * *

Lang found himself waking up, but he found he was on some sort of hard metal bed. When he tried to move he couldn't. His limbs were quite secure behind metal clasps. He couldn't cry out because his mouth was gagged. He was in such a dark room, that he could not make out his surroundings. All he really saw were small green, red, and yellow lights blinking on either side of him probably against a wall.

He heard footsteps, heavy and slow—a larger man.

"Give me your sadness…" the man said solemnly, "Give me your tears…You will watch your friends die over and over again until I have enough data."

Lang struggled against his bonds, but it was of little use. He would not escape, he realized; he was trapped in an eternal hell. He felt a sharp pain in his neck as something small entered it and then as it slid back out again. It didn't take long for him to become drowsy once again. He fought against it, but eventually he fell asleep, left to languish in a twisted world of dreams.


	11. Towards the Light

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 11: Towards the Light_

Bulma did not think about abandoning what seemed like her last hope of returning home, but more than that she simply could not bring herself to do it. Sephiroth seemed to think that he was going to die. However, until he drew his last breath, Bulma believed the opposite. She kept checking his vitals; he still had a pulse. She stayed and waited for the swordsman's consciousness to return.

He recovered on his own. He'd been eerily motionless for nearly two days before his eyes opened once more and Bulma had been there to see. She was relieved when she was able to meet his gaze once again. She could not read his expression, but she supposed that he was surprised to still be living.

"I knew you'd be fine," Bulma said with a smile, "You _are_ fine, right?"

He was in a slight daze as he sat up slowly, his usually sharp eyes a bit clouded and narrowed in the afternoon sunlight. "How long has it been?"

"Only a couple of days—you didn't miss much," Bulma said with a grin.

He looked around himself and took in the environment. Of course, it would be impossible to tell whether they were in the same spot, but Sephiroth assumed that this was the case. "That man from before," Sephiroth began.

But Bulma shook her head knowing what he was about to ask. "I didn't know him at all. He just came out of nowhere. I'm...glad you were here."

"His target was not you. You simply happened to be there when he decided to make his move. I didn't know him either, before you ask, but I suppose it makes little difference now."

"Even still, I feel safer with you than by myself."

Sephiroth could not stop himself from grinning at the irony. If only she knew who she was talking to, she'd think a little differently. On the other hand, for now Sephiroth had sufficient interest in keeping her alive.

Bulma started up a fire again knowing that the other must be ravenous and was soon handing him more of her food stores. He ate without question. It wasn't long before they were off again in no particular direction. A fact that made their situation feel even more hopeless.

She kept trying to gauge the other's health, but he was none too vocal about it. Bulma felt as if she had a lot of pent up energy from sitting around for so long and knew that this couldn't be the case for Sephiroth. However, even asking him directly gave her non-descriptive answers. "Fine" just didn't seem right. How fine, exactly? Do you still feel weak from before and you're just playing it off or are you 100% better? To make it worse, Bulma didn't quite understand what had happened to him in the first place or why he had been so certain that he had been dying before.

For his sake, she suggested that they took a brief rest, but Sephiroth seemed more annoyed than relieved. Bulma sighed to herself, she'd forgotten how stubbornly stupid men could be sometimes. In interest of his precious pride, Bulma pretended it was for her sake instead and then he grudgingly complied.

It was difficult for her to keep up conversation with the enigmatic swordsman. He gave her little to go off of and offered up little about himself. In the time she had known him, she learned almost nothing about him aside from his name. Though Vegeta could sometimes be aloof, he was at least responsive to her. She knew that Vegeta was far more powerful than she and that at any moment he could easily kill her, but she'd not been afraid in the least. However, with Sephiroth, even without knowing the full extent of his strength, she could not push back the cold hands of fear. What was he thinking about behind those cold green eyes? Was he already plotting her demise in the most horrendous way possible? Despite these misgivings, he'd not _done_ anything to support her uneasiness and he was still the only person she'd come across.

The day seemed to drag on as soon even Bulma became silent. The day's activities dissolved into simply putting one foot in front of the other. Where were they going? And was this ever going to end? Her eyes perked up when she saw something on the horizon. Though it was still a subtle change on the horizon, Bulma's eyes had been trained on it for quite some time. She pointed it out to Sephiroth immediately. He followed the direction of her eyes and found it easily.

"Let's hope we are moving closer to it."

"Alright, alright, we don't have to take a break for—

"No," he said shaking her head and cutting her off. "You misunderstand. This land can be quite deceiving. One might see something in the distance, but never actually reach the place."

Bulma's eyes grew wide at the news. "Geez, really? Well, it's the only thing _different_ I've seen out here for ages. We at least have to try, right?"

"Of course," Sephiroth replied in his too-calm voice.

Sephiroth's lack of excitement dampened Bulma's spirits somewhat, but then when was he ever excited about anything? Bulma got the feeling that she had likely already seen the full range Sephiroth's emotions. For the most part, he lacked expression and his voice lacked natural inflections. It was all quite eerie. She was glad he didn't turn to look at her too often if at all.

His sword, Bulma noted, was quite long, longer than she'd ever seen or even thought could be real. For a man so tall, however, it seemed to suit him. Bulma grinned at how ridiculous it would look on her husband. The sword might even be dragging on the ground. Though Vegeta with any sort of sword would have been entertaining to watch. He was such a master at his own craft that a sword would seem out of place.

The day continued to wear on and the thoughts Bulma once had soon turned to nothing at all. The hours dragged, but the structure did seem to be getting closer. Bulma wanted to make it there before the sun set that day so she walked a bit faster and Sephiroth kept up with her without even batting an eye. Perhaps he was anxious as well.

She began to see it more clearly and decided that they were walking towards a house set in the middle of nowhere. Who in their right minds would live there? It was a bit exciting to think that they'd eventually meet a true denizen of this world. She hadn't been on this sort of adventure in a while and she still found that she enjoyed it.

The sun was now racing them across the sky and Bulma unconsciously picked up the pace. Sephiroth tailed her as opposed to walking beside her in her mounting excitement, but she did not notice. What if they didn't reach it that day and when they were able to see again, the house was gone? Bulma wasn't sure how much more she could take of this place accompanied only by an aloof stranger. Maybe she'd lose her mind before long.

Her pace increased again as the sun threatened to set. They were so close now. She was nearly jogging and not paying much attention to the other. Eventually, her panic paid off when she was able to reach the door. She knocked on it instinctively, but no one came to the door for the longest time even after knocking several more times.

"There's no one inside," Sephiroth said startling her.

She'd forgotten he was even there and his sudden voice sent shivers down her spine. She realized that there was nothing friendly or inviting about his voice. She tried the doorknob and it turned easily. After pushing the door open, she was presented with a perfectly normal looking home. No signs of dust, but also no signs of people living there. Everything was clean and neat. In fact, too clean and too neat as if it was a house up for sale.

She was stepping into the living room where two long couches lined walls across from each other and then a nice rectangular wooden and polished table sat in the middle. On another wall was a large window with no blinds. Beyond through a doorway led to a kitchen which had a window that let in the dying rays of the sun. Bulma explored this place thoroughly looking for any signs of food.

The refrigerator was spotless and painfully empty and after checking the drawers and cabinets she found them in nearly the same condition. There had been no food, but she'd found plates, bowls, cups, cooking utensils, serving utensils, and the like. All of these were spotless as well. None of it made sense to her, but then the location of this house made no sense either. Had they stepped into a trap?

She'd lost track of Sephiroth again so she stepped back out into the living room hoping to discuss whether they should stay here or not. When she found him fast asleep on one of the couches, she supposed the decision had already been made.

"That was quick..." Bulma said noting how quickly he'd made himself comfortable.

She'd not been able to look at him properly all day as she'd been trying to avoid his gaze and perhaps he'd been doing the same though not as deliberately. Without even knowing, she made her footfalls quieter than usual. He was in the perfect position for her to see him since he was on his back.

He breathed deeply through his nose and his mouth was slightly parted. Upon close examination she realized that he was sweating. It was difficult to see in the dim light. Cautiously, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. There was no telling if he might wake up angrily at the breach of his personal space or that he had some reflex that would wound up with his hands around her throat. Nothing happened and she breathed a sigh of relief. A brief touch was all she required to learn that he was quite feverous. She might have been upset that he hadn't told her about it, but then there was little she could have done for it anyway. There still might not be anything she could do.

She looked about the room quickly and found a door that looked a lot like a closet. Perhaps there were rags in there. Looking into the room, she found rows upon rows of towels and hand cloths. She took a hand cloth, went to the bathroom further down the hall and then ran ice cold water over it for a good half a minute. All the while, she looked around for a light switch. There was none to be found so she had to be quick about all of this before it became too dark to see.

She came back to the couch and ran the cold rag lightly about his face. Her hand shook a bit in apprehension. _What if he wakes up, what if he wakes up..._ her mind kept saying over and over again. Yet it didn't happen. She did the same procedure several times until it became dangerously dark. His fever still hadn't broken so she wet the cloth one more time and then placed it across his forehead. She'd seen it done like this before and trying something was better than doing nothing at all.

She made her way around the table and laid down on the opposite couch. It was then that she realized that in her evaluation of the place, she'd not found bedrooms. What a strange house indeed.

* * *

Bulma was the first to wake or at least she thought she had been when she noted Sephiroth's resting form. When she climbed off the couch, she noticed that the cloth she had placed over him was now placed on the table and not haphazardly on the ground as if it had fallen. The cloth had been deliberately placed there, folded neatly. His position had changed as well. He was turned to his side and head buried betwixt his arms, his silvery hair draped over his arms and couch as well. She could no longer make out his face and she wasn't sure if he was still feverous or not. She decided she'd let the matter rest. Besides, now that they had a kitchen, she could cook properly.

Her cooking skills were poor, but it was the little things that brought happiness to her these days. She took out a pan and decapsulized some breakfast food and began on it the best she could. She was sure the smell of bacon would wake up the slumbering swordsman especially if he was hungry. At least, it worked that way for her husband. Then again, the bacon could have barely touched the pan and Vegeta would suddenly appear and it was never a question of whether he was hungry or not...

She made plates for both of them: bacon, toast, and fried eggs. There was no dining room, but there was a nice large table in the living room. She set her plate on the table and then set the second plate on the other side.

"Oh, Seeeephiroth," Bulma called out.

The only thing she received in response was a groan and several garbled, muffled words.

"I know you're hungry. I made some food in that brand new kitchen so it _doesn't_ taste like campfire."

There was no response that time, but she assumed that he was awake so she took her seat on her couch and began on her plate. It wasn't until she nearly finished her food when she realized the other had fallen back to sleep much to her annoyance, but she dared not disturb him again. She left his plate there as well just in case he decided he would eat something.

Bulma eventually found herself bored after she thoroughly looked over the house thrice. There were no lights, but there was electricity. How the place could have electricity or running water for that matter was another mystery in itself. She walked outside, but not too far away from the house and gazed up at the featureless sky. She sat down on the small porch which lacked any outdoor furniture and took out a deck of cards from her purse—it was simply something she kept in her purse and she'd done so for as long as she could remember having a purse. Now it would finally come in handy. A deck of cards could only keep her occupied for so long, but she was desperate.

Every few minutes, she would look back into the house to check on Sephiroth, but he was largely unchanged. At some point, he'd switched positions again though still thoroughly asleep. She wondered how long he would be that way or when she should start worrying if this continued for the rest of the day.

She played herself out as far as card games went and they were boring single player ones at that. In the end, it simply became something to do other than staring at the four walls. Sephiroth hadn't said a word to her or moved from the couch and she'd also partook in the cold plate of food she'd made for him. Night time came and went; still there was no change from him. That was when she became worried.

Despite her initial fears, she dared herself to try and wake him up with a bit more force. With a shaky hand after calling out his name, she shook him a bit after she placed her fingers on his shoulder. Then she snatched it away. No response. It was a good thing he was still breathing deeply otherwise she might have thought he was dead. He might as well had been. She tried this thrice more before her nerves gave out. She'd rather not press her luck.

Her heart skipped a beat when there was a knock at the door. Who in the world could be out there? Was it possible that there was another person who shared their predicament? Bulma took a deep breath and went to answer the door. There was no peep hole and the curtainless window was not wide enough for her to see who it was. Still, she decided she would open the door.

She opened it slowly and only a crack so that she might see who it was. No one was there. She opened it wider so that she could see further and was greeted only with the endless sea of green grass and clear blue skies.

"Hello?" she asked with a cracked voice. She cleared her throat so that she could speak properly. "Hello?" she repeated. She hadn't actually spoken words in days it felt like. "Anyone there?"

More silence much to her disappointment. Perhaps it was a good thing. There was no telling if the person she met might have been a friend or foe. This, however, did not put her mind at ease. She'd clearly heard a knock and there hadn't been anyone there to do such a thing. She stepped out of the house and looked all around while looking outward as well. Who in the world had knocked?

With a sigh and determining that there was nothing more she could do, she went back inside and sat down on the couch. She rested her elbows on the armrest and leaned her head against her open palm. She watched the swordsman for a while who seemed blissfully ignorant to her apparent boredom. She hadn't expected to stay here for this long. Now he was turned towards the back of the couch, his hair still draped over the front of the couch. She sincerely hoped that nothing was wrong with him, but as the day wore on, she continued to run out of reasons for his strange behavior as of late.

There was another knock on the door. This time instead of wondering if she should answer, she ran over to the door and yanked it open. No one there. Suddenly a great burst of wind rammed into her causing her to fall flat on her back. She might have been able to recover from this, but soon she found herself coughing. Something was tickling her throat internally and she could not stop herself. It was to the point that she feared she might suffocate from the effort. She couldn't yell out Sephiroth's name and even so, he probably would not have responded.

Now she heard footsteps. Despite herself, she forced herself to look up. With watery eyes she made out a man grinning down at her. Surely, it couldn't have been the man from before...

"I finally have you both where I want you. I'm not sure why it didn't work on you the same way it did him, but there are plenty of ways to get what I need."

The man bent down and Bulma began to desperately crawl backwards. _No, please!_ She was hardly moving at all. His hand came upon her and pressed firmly against her mouth and nose. Her head shook with the effort of trying to breath and she tried feebly to bite his hand, but none of this worked. Soon darkness overtook her.

* * *

She woke up in a dimly lit room. It took her a moment to realize that she was in some sort of holding cell. Thick metallic bars stared back at her menacingly. She was not alone, she realized as her eyes grew accustomed to the lighting. Sephiroth was there as well with eyes still closed. There had been something wrong after all, Bulma thought, and she hadn't picked up on it. If only he'd been awake! He would have been able to take down that man in no time at all. She crawled over to him almost angrily and began shaking him with far more force than she had in the first place. Fear or not, she was _not_ going to wait and see what was in store for them.

It was like shaking a ragdoll. No matter what she did, he would not respond.

"Oh I wouldn't bother with him, doll," a man's voice said cutting through the silence.

Her eyes immediately went to the bars where the voice had emitted. It was the same man who had abducted her.

"He's already succumbed to the odorless colorless gas which still permeates the air. Don't worry, it's harmless. In fact, it's quite easy to obtain in these parts. While it's still present in the air, however, it's simply impossible to wake up—perfect for those suffering from insomnia, don't you think? For some reason or another, it doesn't affect you. Perhaps your chemistry works differently—who knows?"

Bulma had heard enough as she finally stood up and stalked over to the bars. "What do you want with us?"

"With you?—nothing for now, but I've been tailing this swordsman for quite some time."

Bulma became confused by this. "You've been tailing him? But why?"

"There are certain things...that I desire from him. I first spied him at a small village on the beach. I always look for my victims there. The good ones always wound up there. I've wanted him ever since. But it was impossible to get to him as he was always surrounded by three other very attentive people and one of them never sleeps. None of them were affected by anything I exposed them to through the air. It was just my luck that he became separated from the others and even luckier that you two stumbled across an abandoned house. The enclosed area made it so much more easy for me. Then I—

"I don't want to know the extent of your terrible plans. I just want to know why you even bothered? What things do you 'desire'? Maybe there's a better way to get them," Bulma tried to reason.

The man shook his head. "Only he can give me want I want."

"What's so special about him?" Bulma asked still not quite understanding.

The man merely grinned at her. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose," he said and left it at that. He began to walk away fading into the surrounding darkness.

"Wait! How long are you going to keep us in here! I have a lot of money back where I live—I'll give you anything if you just let us go!"

She might as well had been yelling at the brick wall. Angrily, she stomped back to the other side of the cell where Sephiroth was still out like a light and Bulma didn't even bother looking his way. At least someone wasn't freaking out. Though judging from what the man said perhaps Sephiroth should have been worried. She was practically here for no reason. It was only in her association with him that she had been taken as well. Still, she felt her best bet was to stay by his side. Despite everything, she did feel as if she was getting somewhere. If not for all of this, she was certain she'd still be in that awful place of grass and more grass.

"Hey," came a hushed female voice from the bars. "I see I've gotten here in the nick of time."

Bulma had no clue who this person was, but anything was better than waiting for her doom so she stood and made her way back to the bars and beheld the stranger. A woman was standing and she was quite shimmery and bright from her elaborate jewelled clothing to her bright red hair and light green eyes. She was certainly a sight for sore eyes—fresh and beautiful not dingy like she felt at this moment.

"Who are you?" Bulma asked immediately.

"Your benefactor it would seem," the woman said. Her eyes travelled to the resting form further in the cell and she tsked. "No man should have to sleep for so long. Here," she said handing Bulma a small vial. "Give this to him and he should come to soon enough."

Bulma took it and held it tightly in closed hands. "So you're here to help? Why don't you just get us out of here?"

"Now, now, that would just be too easy, wouldn't it," the woman said grinning, but seeing Bulma's angered expression caused her to change tunes. "No, I would, but you see I have no time. I barely have any now as it is. Avalon is keeping me on a short leash. While I wasn't looking, however, everyone has managed to separate themselves and little to no progress has been made. Good help is so hard to find," she said with a dramatic sigh. "Once Sephiroth wakes up, it should be nothing getting out of here."

"Wait, do you have his sword too?" Bulma asked finally warming up to the idea. It was their best shot after all.

"You mean he doesn't have that as well?" the woman said shaking her head in a patronizing way. "I have no idea where it is and I have no time to search for it, but I'm sure it's here somewhere. That man is obsessed with Sephiroth. He probably has that miserable sword framed and hanging up. Now, goodbye, I have a tight schedule. Oh and when you manage to escape keep running straight, you should arrive at the gates of a city. I plan to have everyone meet up in that city. Good luck."

The woman vanished in the blink of an eye. Even if Bulma had further questions, it was impossible to ask them now.

"So just have him drink this..." Bulma said to herself.

If he was asleep then, it would be impossible to get him to swallow. Maybe she just had to get it into his mouth. She hoped this was the case because that was all she could manage at this point. She got down on her knees and then with some struggle sat the resting man upright against the wall—he was just as heavy as she had imagined.

Now that she knew that he would not wake no matter what, she was less gentle and less afraid of touching him without his permission. She had to prop his head up some with one of her hands. She had a bit of trouble just trying to open his mouth and then she placed a few drops of the fluid onto his tongue. Then, on second thought, she placed a bit more of the medicine on his tongue, closed his mouth and titled his head backwards against the wall. With this done, she sat down a good distance away from him not knowing what to expect or even if this would do anything. She might have just poisoned him and killed him off for good, but attempting this was still better than doing nothing at all.

It didn't take long, maybe a few minutes before Bulma knew he was awake. Perhaps it was because she'd forced liquid down his throat, but he was coughing profusely until it had all come back up again. She was relieved though, finally they were making progress. She made her way cautiously to him as he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his sleeve.

"Sephiroth?" Bulma asked in quiet tones so as not to startle him.

His hands were pressed against his eyes now and Bulma wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign.

"Where...?" he muttered wearily.

"We're in some kind of holding cell and, yes, it's a long story."

He sighed long and heavily. He was trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but evidentially it wasn't working quite so well as he still covered his eyes after some time.

"Here," she said gently as she tentatively took hold of his arms and pulled them away from his eyes. "Just let them adjust for a while, okay? I think we still have some time; we're in no rush."

To her surprise, he allowed this. Even in the dimness of the light, she could tell that his eyes were quite bloodshot making him seem even scarier than usual, but Bulma was not too perturbed by this.

"It feels as if...I've been asleep for ages..." he said in low tones.

"You have been. For days actually. That guy from before, he said he's been following you since 'that village on the beach'. After you were separated from the others, he thought it was the prime opportunity to make his move so he drugged you with some sort of a gas. It didn't affect me. I'm still not sure what he wants from you, but this woman who says she was here to help gave me this antidote," Bulma said holding the half empty vial up. "And now, here we are in this cell awaiting whatever cruel thing that man has in store for us."

"The woman...describe her," Sephiroth said. He seemed to be having trouble with forming words, but slowly he was regaining his speech.

"Red hair, green eyes, very beautiful clothes," Bulma summarized.

"Yes...that's her."

"You know her?" Bulma asked rhetorically.

He merely nodded at her and said nothing further on the subject.

"Oh and she said once we escape that we should keep running straight until we see the gates of a city where we'll meet up with everyone else."

He leaned back against the wall. "Let's hope her instructions are true this time."

He was still bleary eyed, but eventually he did regain his bearings. Bulma was quiet for a moment, but then finally spoke what was on her mind.

"I should've been paying closer attention. I knew something was wrong, but..."

"Bulma," he said, his voice clear now. He looked towards her now. "I suppose there's a first time for everything, but you saved my life. No one has ever done that for me before. I generally don't require such help nor ask for it, but you gave it freely. What I'm trying to say is: Thank you."

Bulma was not used to anyone gazing at her so intently. Her ears were beginning to turn red from his singular attention. In her state of sudden muteness, Sephiroth took this time to climb to his feet which he did with the assistance of the nearby wall.

"Hm, of course my sword is missing..." he noted aloud. He must have noticed the missing weight immediately.

Bulma climbed to her feet as well. "That woman; she said it was around here somewhere."

"Well then we have nothing to worry about then," Sephiroth said sardonically, "If she took time out of her busy schedule to 'visit' me, then she could have at least been a bit more specific on the whereabouts of the only weapon I have."

He seemed more talkative now and Bulma preferred this to his usual quietness. She wondered what he was doing as he moved towards the bars. He sought out the door, glanced around probably looking for a lock and then shook the bars a bit as if to test it.

"Don't tell me you're just going to rip the door open," Bulma said with crossed arms. "I'm sure that guy is going to be back to get you. You could pretend you're still asleep and then wrestle him to the ground or whatever it is you want to do and then we can get out of here easy."

He still had his hands on the bars. "That plan sounds refreshingly sensible, but I have little patience as of now and he has managed to get on my last set of nerves."

"Okay, then—what are you planning to do?" Bulma asked.

His eyes were on her again as he gave her a grin that sent chills down her back. She counted herself lucky to never have gotten on his bad side. Without much provocation, he gripped the bars and with astonishingly little effort ripped the door off its hinges as if they had been made from paper.

"Come on, we have a sword to find," Sephiroth said to the gawking woman.

That was all the motivation she needed to unfreeze herself and follow the determined swordsman. The halls were dimly lit with torches and quite wide and airy. This, however, did not deter him nor the fact that he could not possibly know where he was going. Something told Bulma that he must have shared some sort of connection what that massive sword of his. Whatever was the case, they found the sheathed blade easily and with no incident. They had found it in a room full of other magnificent weapons and when placed amongst the other shiny, polished weaponry, the Masmune didn't seem quite as impressive. Sephiroth had the katana back on in no time flat. Bulma was sure that it was quite the confidence boost for him.

"Perhaps you should take one for yourself," Sephiroth said referring to all the other weapons about.

"Sorry," Bulma said shaking her head, "I don't do weapons."

"It is just as well. You won't need it for the time being."

Bulma wasn't sure, but it did sound a lot like he was fully willing to protect her. They moved at a quicker pace now. She knew he was looking for the man who had started it all and he began to check all the rooms. It was exhausting work, but eventually they found him on the second floor in the midst of pouring himself some wine. Just like all the other doors, Sephiroth had thrown it open and this time he had startled the man inside.

"Avert your gaze if you don't wish to see a spectacular display of bloodshed."

Bulma did more than avert her gaze, she closed the door as well. However, even the closing of the door didn't block all the cries of terror within. When Sephiroth re-emerged, there wasn't a spot of blood on him, but that did not quell the imaginative images she had in her mind to the poor state of the man inside and that's even if he was still alive.

"Let's go," he said calmly.

He seemed at ease. In the midst of such violence the tall swordsman appeared, well, peaceful as if he had just then finished doing something he felt was quite fulfilling. It was something that gave Bulma pause. She wondered just how monstrous this man could become and how easily could that hostility be turned on her? She forced herself to follow him anyways—it was her only way out.

They made their way down to the first floor again and then searched around until they came to what seemed like the entrance. When Sephiroth pushed the door open, the two were greeted with the bright sun. Their eyes scrunched at this and Bulma found herself holding a hand over her eyes for shade. Sephiroth was literally blinded and it took almost a full minute for his eyes to adjust.

"Geez, that's some sun!" Bulma said with surprise.

"We've been inside for far too long, but the sun does seem brighter than usual, don't you think?"

Bulma didn't look directly at the sun, but she did take note of its brightness. "Maybe...It's hard to tell."

"We are from entirely different places. It stands to reason our suns would be different."

Bulma could only shrug at this. Simply seeing the brightness of the sun was no way to properly measure it. All they had were their opinions. There was grass before them, but unlike before, there was also a path. They followed this without question largely because there was nothing else that could be done.

They had more walking to look forward to, but for once, she was not completely annoyed about it. Besides, they didn't have long to walk. Was it her imagination or was Sephiroth actively trying to make small talk with her? Sure they were feeble and he was no conversationalist, but she appreciated the effort. Three hours had passed quickly and they began to make out the before mentioned gate.

"Her name is Veil Publius," Sephiroth said out of the blue.

Bulma, though slightly confused, waited for the other to continue.

"The woman you spoke to back in the holding cell, that was her name. She's long since sent me and the others on this ridiculous goose chase for unknown reasons. She gave us a reason before, but I've not been able to confirm its validity or even if she can be trusted."

"She did help us get out of there," Bulma reminded the other.

"Yes, but she did so only in a small way and for some reason, she did not show her face to me as if she wanted to avoid being seen."

"She claimed she was short on time; that Avalon had her on a short leash," Bulma said.

"She might still be leading us all on, but for now there is nothing more I can do until I have more information."

Bulma thought back on Veil. She could not remember anything untoward about her. Although, it was strange that she didn't simply open the door for them. That in itself would not have taken much time. Even if she knew that Sephiroth could probably easily get out on his own why make things any harder than they needed to be?

The two of them were stopped at the gate by two guards armed with spears. Sephiroth instinctively positioned himself in front of her. Bulma wondered if it was intentional or that he simply wanted to speak first. They'd asked for their names and Sephiroth gave them, but only the first names. The guards seemed not to have a problem with this.

"You must be new around here," the guard on the left stated, "I've never seen the likes of you or her before. What is your relation to this woman?"

Bulma thought that was a strange question to ask. Wasn't it enough that they'd given their names? Was the city on lockdown? Before Bulma could say that they were just two people who happened to be going the same way, Sephiroth spoke.

"She is a dear friend to me and we have been traveling together for quite some time."

Bulma almost gawked at his answer. It had to be for show, that was the only way she could rationalize it.

"Per our laws, we must thoroughly check your persons," the guard on the right said.

"You will do no such thing," Sephiroth said frankly. "If you step any closer, you will be decapitated," he stated with no inflections whatsoever.

"It's not a big deal," Bulma said after her initial shock, "Really, I'm sure it's painless and—

"I will not have you belittled in such a way," Sephiroth said, his gaze still on the two guards. "And I will not repeat myself," he said to the guards.

Something in his tone, perhaps in his presence told the poor guards that he was serious. They made no further fuss, stepped aside and let them enter. Bulma mouthed the words "sorry" to them as she followed the tall swordsman into the grand city beyond. When they were out of earshot of the guards, Bulma found herself unable to hold her tongue.

"Why in the _world_ did you do that? It would have been nothing at all to get searched. Who knows if they might tell their superiors about us? And...did you really mean what you said about us back there?" The words had come tumbling out and she could not stop herself.

"Firstly," Sephiroth said stopping and turning to her, "I meant every word. Depending on how thorough their search was, they would have stumbled upon your capsules which I'm sure is not native to this world. More questions would have been asked and they might have overreacted to it thereby wasting our time. I don't like unknowns—I try to avoid them at all costs. It is a headache we can do without."

Bulma noticed that he did not go into the fact that he had outwardly called her his friend, but she decided it would be wise not to push the issue. Besides, she'd rather be on good terms with him. They hadn't walked five yards into the city filled with sky scrapers and strangely enough, buggies, before they were hailed by an older squat woman.

"You must be Sephiroth. Welcome, welcome to the City of Oddities," the woman said joyously.

Bulma wondered if he knew her, but clearly he didn't when he frowned at the woman.

"You know my name, but I do not know yours."

"Oh, it's Elizabeth. Our Seer foretold of your coming—you and your companions."

"Another seer?" Sephiroth questioned the woman.

"Well, it ain't so strange, newcomer. Why this world would fall completely apart without its Seers. People would hardly get any work done or even be able to travel between places without them. Now, who's this with you? The Seer spoke of four men."

"This is Bulma," Sephiroth said simply.

Bulma took her cue to give a courteous smile, but Elizabeth seemed none too happy with her presence.

"I was told you and the others had an important mission to do— _the_ most important mission in the universe. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes and now you're lollygagging about talking to random girls and such?"

"Hey—!" Bulma began, but was interrupted by Sephiroth.

"Bulma is a friend of mine and without her, I would not be standing here now. Wherever I go, she does as well. If you have an issue with that, then you're simply wasting my time."

"A friend, you say?" Elizabeth said treading carefully now. It seems she wasn't completely oblivious to his ominous aura. "I just...wasn't informed about that."

"What did you want with me?" Sephiroth asked curtly.

The woman blinked a few times. "Well, I am to present you with a place to stay here in this city. The Seer said you and the others would require lodging as you await further instructions from your benefactor."

"I see. It seems you are useful after all. Lead the way."

The way he had concluded that she was useful made her imagine the hidden consequences that might have been in store for Elizabeth had it been the other way around. Elizabeth was efficiently shaken up as she began down the sidewalk. She might have been talkative before, but now she was simply a moving statue.

They were brought to a complex of upscale condominiums that were all one floor each. Elizabeth handed Sephiroth the key to the place that was theirs and scampered off without further ado.

"Finally! A real place to stay," Bulma said unable to contain her excitement as Sephiroth twisted the key and opened the door. "I bet it has showers, actual bedrooms...I can't _wait_ to clean myself off."

"Me as well," Sephiroth said simply as she bounded off to check out every nook and cranny. Lo and behold there were bedrooms, four in all and two and a half bathrooms. The place was pretty well decked out with dark blue thick carpet throughout (aside from the kitchen), the refrigerator stacked with foods, living room already furnished with television, couches and sofas, and bedrooms with queen sized beds in all. It was more than she could ask for especially since it was all free.

Before she left Sephiroth completely in the dust, he stopped her. "I think I'll go explore the city," he told her, "It would be better if you stayed here. I may not trust Veil, but she's always been accurate when it comes to what's going to happen in a given place. The others will be here soon and if you explain yourself well, I don't see why they wouldn't take to you instantly."

"You're leaving me here all by myself?" Bulma whined.

"And where is all that excitement about showers and warm beds," he replied with a grin that wasn't entirely evil. "You'll be safer here than out there where there are many unknowns. Rest and enjoy yourself."

He left it at that and turned to leave. Before he closed the door behind himself she called out to him.

"Be safe, alright!"

Bulma imagined that the other heard her, but simply had nothing to say back. She stared at the closed door for a few moments, then went back to what she had decided she would do before. A shower first, some food, and then to bed.


	12. The Man Who Saw

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 12: The Man Who Saw_

 **A sense of weightlessness enveloped me in strange almost welcoming arms.** I was falling and falling and I could not say when I would finally reach the bottom. I was only half conscious, only half aware of what was going on around me. Where was I? Where was Sharon? Was she alive or dead?

Admittedly, it was foolish of me to jump from such a height, but there was nothing else I could do or maybe I simply hadn't gotten it through my thick skull that I actually could not fly. Such limitations continually frustrated me. I felt less of a person. A part of me was always missing. All that power flowing through my veins that I'd grown used to had been snatched away with relative ease and now here I was—hanging on to life by a single thread.

Had I expected to live through that little stunt of mine? I suppose my vision had become tunnel in that pivotal moment. I saw someone who needed to be saved—an innocent who had not asked to be in that situation and was now forced to die along with me. I honestly couldn't say if Bulma would be proud of me or not. She was one part practical and two parts crazy so I suppose it would depend on the time of day.

A voice asked me a question in the midst of my musings.

"You wish to protect this Sharon?"

When I started to answer, I found my voice oddly silent. Words couldn't come forth from my mouth that could barely move. It was as if I was somehow disconnected physically from myself. My body did not respond to my own thoughts. It was quite disconcerting.

"We will make sure no harm will come to her then. We have spared you from the pain which now assaults your body. You mind has been badly injured, we shall repair it."

Who knows how much time passed between…well, it's difficult to tell what happened to me before and what might happen in the future. I simply do not know about time. It was as if I was caught in limbo. I heard them, whoever they were, whispering in my ears with words I could not comprehend and eventually I stopped trying. All the while, I continued to fall. If one was to ask me what was happening to me, I would be at a loss. It wasn't until I opened my eyes again that I felt as if I was a live, physical being. Before I had been…something else…

Sharon was the first person I beheld, unscathed and even happy. It took a moment for my eyes to readjust as if I'd been in some bright place for too long.

"You must be famished," she said to me while I was still trying to figure out the surroundings or even what might have happened since that moment at the cliff.

I hadn't quite put it all together, but those were the magical words it seemed that gave way to thoughts that trumped all others no matter if they may have been important. Hunger was an all-consuming thing that at times, annoyed me with its persistence. Oh, but I was ravenous. Why did you _remind_ me, Sharon? Her next sentence had better be one telling me of an exorbitant amount of food somewhere. That was wishful thinking, however. She knew almost nothing about Saiyans and—Now, she was pulling me somewhere as if I was moving too slow for her taste. She also seemed a bit chipper, a mood that seemed rare for her. Before we even got there, the smell of food hit my nose so hard that I actually started drooling—unsightly, I know. I didn't need to be led any longer. I knew where that scent was coming from and it was driving me a bit insane. Oh sweet, edible, unpoisoned food. Could care less what exactly it was, it was obviously made to be eaten. I apologize for any who won't be able to eat this day because I shoved all of the food down my throat…But I'm sure hunger wouldn't be as devastating to you as it is to me. Geez, I can hardly even think straight.

Sharon announced to me that what was on the table was all for me. It needed no introduction before I plunged into everything much to everyone's amusement…or horror. I do try to keep some semblance of manners, but it becomes difficult after fasting for days. This was not bark at all. Some of it slid past my tongue so quickly that I could not rightly make out the taste, not that it mattered at this point. Imagine me turning down food due to the taste. Please, that might only happen in times of plenty and even then, I was still not above eating it. But then everything tasted great.

After gorging myself on that wonderful table, my one-track mind was able to think on other things. Stares from the villagers came as no surprise or concern from me. I was sated which was a near euphoric feeling. Not many things in my life could make me feel this way, but this was certainly one of them and only after extreme hunger.

"You weren't lying when you said you were hungry," Sharon said, the amazement clear in her tone, "I mean, I thought she was crazy when she asked for so much food to be made."

"She?" I asked latching on to that word. For some reason, I had thought of Bulma, but, of course she wouldn't be here.

"One of the gods who 'oversees' this place, Angela. I thought she was out of her mind, but I guess she is all-knowing. I certainly didn't know about your appetite—that kind of makes me feel a bit bad when I wasn't taking you seriously before."

As she was talking an odd feeling came over me—the kind of feeling one might get when knowing something, but it being on the tip of the tongue and then you waste precious minutes of your life trying to recall what it was. It was that feeling, but then the words came about almost unbidden. I cut across whatever Sharon was saying at the moment.

"Arcangela, Celeste, Nevaeh, Theia, Angela—they are the five angels that oversee this world, each with their own area. We have been in Angela's domain."

There that was it, but…I could not recall ever learning of such a thing. Where…? A whispering voice came to mind, one that was at once indecipherable now made perfect sense. I'd heard their voices for quite some time and though this was revealed to me the rest remained a mystery. I wondered if this would continue to happen. Things only revealed to me when someone mentioned a word or name. It was stuck in my mind somewhere.

Sharon was looking at me with an odd expression, but she had some explaining to do before I could even begin to understand what might have happened to me.

"Tell me what happened since that time on the cliff," I told her.

She nodded, giving in, sensing that it was probably best that she started first. She told me of how I was brought to this village and how the healers had beseeched the gods for help. I had been in their hands for some time. Sharon had been there at the place in which I was being cared for and she'd been in the presence of Angela. The gods could apparently be seen and had some sort of physical body, but it could not be looked upon by anyone as it would be harmful to one's eyes.

"How was it," she asked, "Being under their care? Did you see them?"

"No," I said shaking my head, "If I did, I don't remember it. There seems to be quite a few things I don't remember."

"That's to be expected with the brain injury you had. In fact, it's quite amazing that you're functioning this well after that sort of thing. One might even call it a miracle," she said with a grin.

"I honestly thought…Well, I suppose it wouldn't do to dwell on 'what-ifs'."

"There's one thing that bothers me," Sharon said as she stepped closer to me, "Why did you do it—why did you try to save me?"

I looked away from her inquisitive eyes. "Anyone would have done the same," I replied.

"No," she said confidently, "Not at all. Perhaps it is true what Angela said about this destiny of yours."

"Destiny," I said with a grimace, "I've always hated that word. But there is something I was brought here to do and I must see to it. Although, the likelihood of success lessens every passing day. I can't even keep myself alive without the help of some deity. I'll probably die of starvation before anything else."

"Don't say that," she said with a determined tone, "You've been given another chance and you should take it."

"Of course I will—it's not in my nature to give up so easily. But not having any concrete plans or even much knowledge about who I'm up against is making things quite difficult. To top it off, I know for certain that I could not do it alone and I've been separated from the ones who share in this mission."

"We're lost as well. If we just go out there like we were before, that same bird will come after us. I'm not sure what to do next, but I definitely don't want to live here for the rest of my life."

We were at a standstill for now, but for some reason I could not bring myself to feeling completely at a loss. It was only a feeling, but somehow I knew that I would find my way back to the others. I relied on my senses and gut feelings; for the most part, they had never steered me on the wrong path.

Deciding that there was no need to linger in the hut, I began to make my way outside. Before I left, I wanted to give my thanks to the cooks, but as I approached one denizen and then another they all bowed their heads as if in submission. I looked at Sharon questioningly who could only shrug. I suppose there was a sufficient reason for someone to be intimidated by me, but I'd not done anything here to incite such a thing. Even now, despite feeling well enough to move around and my hunger mostly sated, I felt much weaker than what was normal. No, I certainly wouldn't be razing down villages anytime soon. There was nothing to fear really. Come to think of it, Sephiroth probably would have made quick work of me at this point. Strength wise, I was a shell of my former self. Whatever healing technique had been performed on me had also robbed me somewhat of my vitality. Hopefully, it would come back with time.

I didn't feel much for exploring. All I wanted to do was rest. But when I stepped outside I saw quite an impressive crowd standing about. I don't know why I keep thinking Sharon might be able to shed light on things, but I still hold out a candle and look at her questioningly only for her to shrug once again. That was when a young elven looking man approached us. Sharon greeted him as if he knew the man.

"And who's this?" I asked Sharon when it looked like I would not be introduced.

"I'm Nehemiah," the elven looking man said. "It's an honor to meet you."

"An honor?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. It felt as if I was asking question after question—I hated feeling so clueless.

"You were in the hands of the gods and they saw to your healing personally. It is a rare event. Do you remember any of it?" Nehemiah asked.

I shook my head. A few bright flashes of light came to me, but that was it. Nothing substantial.

"I see," he said, "Maybe you will in time as it is with all Seers."

I felt as if there was something I was missing or that perhaps the man was mistaken as to who I was. "Nehemiah, I have no idea what you're going on about, but I'm Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans—not a Seer."

"A Prince as well? You must come from very far away. Here, everyone is equal. Come, you look as if you need rest."

Nehemiah began to lead us and slowly the crowd parted. I noticed that there was one large central hut—it stood out from the rest. This was the one that Nehemiah took us to. Inside were comfortable looking beds that were raised with stone and furnished with many sheets, a window that looked towards the setting sun and a stone floor—a far cry from the dirt ground of the other hut. This was obviously a place for someone important. For some reason, these villagers thought me 'important'. Sure, I feel quite important on my own, but it was quite odd for others to agree so readily. It wasn't as if I'd made a case for it. But I was not one to turn down hospitality (at least not anymore). Aside from that, the tiredness was just now becoming something I needed to address quickly or else risk collapsing outright—perhaps it was the sight of the beds. I didn't need much provocation to make myself comfortable.

I should have wrangled a bit more information out of Nehemiah, but at the moment I did not feel like it. I fell into bed, slid under the covers, and began to dream.

A woman appeared before me. She seemed to be made purely of light. She wore what appeared to be in the shape of a sleeveless dress which revealed a slim bodice and draped down to her feet. Her hands seemed adorned with a lacey fingerless gloves and she wore her hair freely, some she wore over her shoulders and the rest flowed down to her tailbone. I could make out a nose and a mouth, but her eyes were a mystery.

"Tell me what you want, Vegeta. Ask and you will receive."

"Who are you?" I asked at once.

"You know who I am," she said steadily.

"Angela?" I said in questioning tones.

She nodded and then smiled. "I have chosen you to 'See' me. You live by your instincts and it allows you to be decisive. Only a decisive person can make the best of such a broad question."

I knew who this woman was, but I could not pinpoint why this was the case. "You would really give me anything I ask for?" I was testing the waters before blurting things out. It was a bit like being in the presence of Shenron, but without any beforehand decisions. I had to be careful—I knew that much. 'Anything' could be just as much a trap as a viable solution to my problems.

"I would give, do, anything that you request."

"What if," I began slowly, "I asked for my abilities back?"

"Of course you would start there. That is something that goes against the natural law of the land. To go against it would require much of my strength and I would require something in return."

"And what would that be?"

"It would require that you take a life, many lives. I have determined that this is a fair trade for my troubles. You understand that the death of a person is just as frowned upon as cheating the natural law."

"Kill someone…" I wondered if I'd be able to do such a thing. Perhaps not at this moment, but if I was desperate enough…

"It would be no problem for a Saiyan. Even in your weakened state, you are far more powerful than those who reside on this planet. But your conscience stays your hand."

"This, what is happening now—you do this to others as well? Ask them what they want?"

"Yes, these people are called Seers. You can make more than one request; you can make as many as you would like. I come to most in dreams."

"That time before when I was able to use my powers again, but briefly—what was the price for her?"

"She asked for five minutes—a far more doable request. It was only one life I required, but, as you know, more than one was taken. She needed you to kill at least one person to keep her side of the trade and you went above and beyond."

I nodded slowly to this. "And for an indefinite time?"

"Let's say that quite a few villages would not exist anymore."

"I've been managing well enough on my own," I said finally after a pause, "That isn't a necessity at the moment."

Having my powers back was one thing I wanted, but I realized that it should be considered a luxury for now. There was something else I wanted that would strategically be a better call.

"This land changes a lot. It's impossible to make a map of it. What would it cost to always have detailed knowledge about the land, when it changes, where everything is?"

"Ah, I see you are learning and far quicker than the others. Knowledge is a powerful thing whose cost is not steep. This I can give you effortlessly—in fact, it is something that you already have, but it is hidden in your subconscious. I will bring it to the forefront of your mind and it would be as if it has always been there."

She still hadn't told me what the price was. She was purposefully withholding it at the moment. The entity stepped closer to me, but I stood my ground. Despite not knowing her completely, she did not evoke any fear from me.

"We oversee the living of this world and yet we remain woefully separate from it. Our only contact is through the chosen Seers and only in environments such as these since true, physical eyes cannot behold us. I desire physical contact from one such as you."

"Is that the price then?" I asked a bit confused. It seemed deceptively simple.

She stepped even closer still. I could make out the shape of her eyes, but that was all. "Awake," she whispered, "Follow my voice."

Just like that I was awake in a darkened hut. I didn't wait to see if Sharon was there as well instead I was more concerned about a minute sound—Angela's voice. I climbed out of bed and followed it out of the hut, out of the village and into the surrounding woods. My eyes were beginning to fully readjust to the pitch blackness of the night, but then they were bombarded with the stinging rays of light. It was as if I was too close to the sun.

I strained to see what I suspected was Angela. Only her outlines could be discerned. She approached me steadily. One of her hands reached out to me and then she was holding my shoulder. Her touch felt warm and steadily becoming warmer similar to a light bulb.

"S-Saiyan," she said in a wavering voice.

Was she crying? Her features were clearer now. I could not discern color, but everything else had structure now—her almond shaped eyes, her small, straight nose, and small, but plump lips.

"When you look me in the eyes like this…"

Her face was closer to mine and her other hand ran slowly down the side of my face leaving almost a searing trail behind. I might have stopped her if I wasn't so much in a daze. The hand on my shoulder was just becoming unbearable. Finally, she stepped away. My eyes were watering—no matter how hard I blinked my eyes, I could not dry them. I wanted to turn away, but she was too…captivating.

"Thank you, Vegeta…thank you. Only one of such strength can gaze upon me. I have not met another who could do the same. I shall return you to your hut. You may need some time to regain your sight."

In a snap, the brightness turned to darkness. I knew that I was in darkness, but for the longest time all I could see was white. I was in my bed again. I sat up and continued to look about waiting for my normal sight to return. Slowly, very slowly, the edges of my vision began to come back. Since my bed was against the wall, I leaned up against this as I patiently waited. The stinging sensation in my eyes intensified before beginning to ease off in an agonizingly slow fashion. At the very least, my eyes had stopped watering.

I'm not sure if I fell asleep or not, but I was startled nonetheless many hours later by a shrill scream from Sharon. I could only make out the edges of her form. It wasn't dark anymore, I could tell. It was day time and the world was bright again. The stinging sensation came back with a vengeance when I tried to focus a bit more on her.

"Vegeta, your eyes are bleeding! Why are your eyes bleeding?!" cried an astonished Sharon.

Blood? Had it been blood the whole time instead of water? I touched my face and felt dry, peeling substance—that was definitely blood. Tears of any kind didn't end up like that.

"Calm down, Sharon, everything will be alright."

Normally, I hated saying such things if I _didn't_ know if everything would be fine, but I did not want to deal with an anxious Sharon.

"What happened? Is it from the previous injuries? Did they forget to fix something?" Sharon asked.

"No," I said shaking his head. "Something happened last night—it's a long story," he said taking a deep breath.

"Tell me," Sharon practically demanded.

I decided I would and quickly went over the events of last night.

"You looked upon Angela?" a new voice said.

"Nehemiah," Sharon said a little startled. Obviously, he'd just walked in though I missed his quiet footsteps.

"I came when I heard the scream. Vegeta, if what you say was true, I cannot believe you are sitting here. Even a moment's gaze upon one of them will destroy someone's eyesight and you say you looked at her for much longer and within very close vicinity—most would have disintegrated from the heat. And yet…"

I heard his footsteps come a little closer and I felt the wind generated from his hand palm waving in my face. I resisted the urge to deflect or otherwise break his wrist in response. I could make out his hand only faintly.

"How well can you see?" Nehemiah asked in subtle amazed tones.

"Everything is…very hazy."

"Vegeta…" Sharon squeaked.

" _But_ it's slowly coming back, don't worry."

"Who says you'll regain your eyesight?" Sharon asked.

"Angela herself," Vegeta reassured her.

"Oh—Angela, herself," Sharon said haughtily, "The same person who left you in this condition to begin with."

"Look, Sharon, I know my way around here—we don't ever have to be lost again. I think it's a small price to pay." I closed my eyes. The stinging pain was becoming unbearable the more I tried to focus in on things—and it was almost impossible to not try to do when everything was so unclear. "Just give me some time."

"Fine," she said with a huff. "I suppose there's nothing more we can do."

She went back and plopped herself on her bed. Nehemiah was still standing there, probably looking at me. I sensed that he had a burning question.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You really looked at her," he said in amazement. "What did she look like?"

"Like a woman, like a normal woman." I knew he wanted more details even before he asked. "I couldn't see colors—it was all too bright."

"Was she short, tall, medium?"

I sighed exasperatedly. One of the things I found most annoying was describing a person's physical appearance to another especially if that person was a woman. It felt a bit…demeaning. "Tall," I bit out. In fact, she was nearly a head taller than me.

"What kind of a hair?" he pressed.

"Nehemiah," Sharon said. I was grateful for the intrusion. "Leave him be, alright?

"Alright," he said relenting. "I see the experience was somewhat personal."

Personal? I wanted to correct him, but I realized that I did not have a better description for it. I simply did not feel as if it was my place to describe in detail what had taken place upon seeing her. The worrisome man left and I was left with only Sharon for company.

"Do you really know where everything is?" Sharon finally asked after a few silent minutes passed.

"I do."

"But how does that even work?"

I was really in no mood for explaining things, but I decided I'd do it anyway if it gave her some peace of mind. Something told me she was still anxious. "Think of your hometown. Think of all the streets, places, landmarks. If you were to go there, you would know where everything is in an instant, like second nature. This world now is my 'hometown'. It's as if I've grown up here. It is knowledge that I've felt I've known for so long that it is impossible to forget. I simply know."

"I think I understand. That must feel so weird. Having it dropped into your mind like that."

"It feels natural."

"But at the same time, it isn't. I mean, just a few hours ago, we were completely clueless about where we were and now…"

"That is strange to think about," I admitted, "but now that I know, it feels as if I always have."

I knew that she had more questions and it was becoming harder and harder to curb my growing annoyance. I didn't want to snap at her so I took another deep breath.

"So you can ask for anything as long as you're willing to pay the price. Does she come to you every time you sleep now?"

"I have no idea."

"Is that the only way you can get in contact with her?"

"She made it seem as if there were other ways. As long as it's in an environment in which I am not physically there," I said successfully willing my tone to remain even.

"And you don't really know the price of things until she tells you?"

"Seemed as if she came up with some of them on the spot—probably according to the person at least for the smaller requests." It was amazing how much more patience I had these days.

"Does—

"No more questions," I said simply.

"You can't really be cutting me off now—I have _so_ much more to ask and we're not doing anything! It's the perfect time."

I said nothing more to her, hoping she would get the message. Oh the days when people were actually afraid of me…it was at moments like these when I missed them the most. Humoring people was a rare event for me and she was just beginning to push it.

"Alright, we'll just sit here and do nothing."

The time passed slowly, but I was glad when Sharon finally left. I could breathe a sigh of relief. There was only one person I could spend an extended amount of time with without struggling to calm my temper and Sharon did not remind me at all of that person. For her, I would save the world ten times over just to keep her safe.

I was glad that she was not part of this. It was one less thing to worry about. In fact, it was comforting thinking about how safe she was on Earth. I planned to keep it that way. With the knowledge I had now, that goal seemed even more plausible.

Around midday, I deemed my sight good enough. I didn't want our leaving to be some big grand thing which I feared it might be. I sought out Sharon and whisked her away from the village. After a brief goodbye to Nehemiah, we were on our way once again.

We hadn't gotten far before running into Veil. She was exactly as I remembered her to be; long, vibrant red hair and faded green eyes. Hadn't seen her in a long while. Not after I threatened to kill her.

"The goddesses really are a hard bunch to read. Making you of all people a Seer? Ziggurat would have been a better choice, don't you think?"

"There isn't much that gets past you," I commented with crossed arms. "It's as if you've been watching me the whole time."

"Watching you? I have better things to do with my time. In fact, I'm _very_ short on time, but I could not sit by and watch you idiots get further and further into danger. I suppose I won't have to waste my precious powers making the way easy for you _Seer_. Go to the City of Oddities. Sephiroth and his companion has already there."

"His companion?"

Veil began to smirk. There was obviously something she was not telling me…again. "You'll see when you get there."

Before I could wring her neck, she disappeared. Sharon was already looking at me questioningly.

"That was Veil Publius. The asshat who brought me and the others here. I wouldn't be surprised if she brought you here too. Who knows what that woman is thinking all the time? We have our heading, though. Let's get moving."

* * *

 **It took around two days of walking to get there.** I had taken the quickest route deciding that food and water could wait until we got to the city which would have it in abundance. We presented ourselves at the gate and eventually they let us in after a thorough search of our persons—we had nothing to hide anyway though I could not resist glaring at them the whole time for the intrusion of space. I had to take a _very_ deep breath before I bashed them both in the head. The guards struggled to keep their authoritative composure the more they met my gaze. In the end, they shrank away like little ants as we entered.

A stooped old lady greeted us proclaiming that we'd reached the before mentioned city. Her smile seemed a bit forced however, when it came to Sharon.

"Another one," the old woman gaped.

It took me a moment to realize she was referring to Sharon. I shrugged nonchalantly, unconcerned with the woman's apparent disapproval. "Just show us the way, woman."

It was probably my tone which sent the woman scurrying off down the sidewalk. Sharon and I followed along until we came to some grand looking condominiums. The old woman passed me the key, but something stopped me in my tracks as I stood before the door. _Bulma._ I could sense her straight away. I pushed and twisted the key in quickly so that I could see what was behind the door. _It couldn't be her…_

As soon as I walked in and closed the door behind me after Sharon followed in suit, I saw Bulma emerge from the kitchen along with the distinct smell of burning. I didn't care about the acrid smell. My vision became tunnel as I beheld her after what felt like a lifetime in some other unknown land. I hadn't realized how much I missed her until that moment. I didn't know it was possible for my heart to be _aching_ in anticipation of touching her once again, kissing her once again. Was it possible for me to have become this soft, this ruled by my emotions?—I didn't feel like chiding myself or somehow regaining some semblance of composure. Besides, it was only Sharon there to see.

Wordlessly, we came together and I was kissing her deeply as if it was the first time I'd seen such a beautiful woman in my life. She had her arms carelessly wrapped around me and my arms firmly around her petite waist; she was enraptured—lust and love seeping into one.

I half-acknowledged the door opening again. It hadn't so much as registered in my mind. I subconsciously knew it was Sephiroth—he was easy enough to sense. But I didn't care in the end. It was far too late for privacy anyhow.


	13. Power to Create, Power to Destroy

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

Sephiroth: Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

Vegeta: Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

Lang: Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

Ziggy: Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 13: Power to Create, Power to Destroy_

 **Maya did not believe he would wake despite her efforts.** It wasn't as if he'd been breathing to begin with. She'd realized yesterday that he did not breathe air like a normal, living person. Whenever he spoke, he stopped breathing altogether and what looked like breathing was only a ghost imitation probably from when he was human to begin with. She supposed it wasn't intentional on his part. He hadn't been trying to conceal this fact, but breathing was such an instinctive, subconscious function that perhaps his mind had never caught on to the fact that it wasn't necessary any longer. Did he not have lungs or were they simply not functional, it was hard to tell and asking him directly would surely be embarrassing for him.

His blood was waxy and dark, old and unused probably. What purpose did blood serve for him anyhow? What was even organic about him? It took her much longer to heal him than it did anyone else she'd healed. It was as if he was working against her. It was as if he'd given up the will to live. The thought alone made her eyes moist.

"You poor soul…what life must you have lived to end up like this?" she said to herself.

Despite him being a tool for destruction, he seemed pleasant, calm…mature, trustworthy. She'd trusted him so quickly that it surprised even her. How could a man like that end up like this? She'd sensed an overall malaise about him upon meeting him. He'd been dying since she first laid eyes on him. As a healer, it was hard to watch. What tragedies had befallen this man to make him so sullen? She supposed he'd tried to hide this from her with his somewhat lack of emotion in his speech, but she could tell.

She'd done all she could for him. In reality, the damage had already been done. If only she'd met him sooner, much earlier in life. Would he be happier now? Was it even possible for him to smile?

The physical wound was gone, but his eyes remained stubbornly closed. She could not get through to him how much she wanted him to live if he could not hear. She'd have to watch him closely just in case another nightmare ravaged him.

Nightmares was not new to Maya. She had them before when she had been locked in that cell by the other mystics. Even when she woke up in a cold sweat from what felt like her death in those dreams, she'd taken for granted the relief that came from knowing that it was just a dream and nothing in it reflected directly with reality. How horrifying must it be to know that your own night terrors would come to life by your own means? Had his dreams been of self-mutilation or someone else doing it to him?

A day passed and then another. She'd forsaken her own rest in lieu of keeping a watchful eye—she did not want her work to be undone. She wondered what she would do in the case that he tried to hurt himself. Surely if he had a mind to, she did not have the strength to stop him. At the very least, healing would happen a bit more promptly.

His blue eyes opened up to the world again and Maya rejoiced. When he sat up again, she could not stop herself from embracing him outright. She was sure she startled him, but she did not care. Even though he radiated almost no heat whatsoever, she felt that he needed a hug, this gentle, sad man. It was more surprising that his arms came around her as if a customary thing for him—perhaps all was not lost.

She pulled away eventually.

"Maya, how long was I—

"Two days," she said to the expected question.

The fact seemed almost unfathomable to Ziggurat according to his confused eyes.

"That is quite a long time…and you stayed here the entire time?" he asked.

"I couldn't tell if you were…" _dead or alive_. "So just in case, I stayed."

"I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble," he said.

"If you're really sorry, then tell me exactly what's going on so I can help you."

"I know you're a healer, but there isn't much you can do to help me. It would be better if you—

"No," she cut across him. "I need to know everything—physically and emotionally. People don't always believe it, but they work in tandem with each other. Unless you really have given up altogether, unless there's no one left in your life to live for, you will tell me everything or else perish without putting up much of a fight."

She could see him considering her proposal. She had no idea if it would work. It might be too late. He might have decided his own fate. What if there was no one left for him to stay alive for? It took him a long moment, but soon he responded.

"I will tell you everything, but it will be a long story."

Maya was overjoyed by this—her ultimatum had really worked. Whoever it was in his life who he cared about, mattered a great deal to him. If he was capable of such a deep sadness then he was also capable of the opposite and it was probably just as lasting and gripping.

"I'm all ears," she said with what she hoped conveyed patience and understanding.

So he began beginning with the demise of his family and his sordid existence as a cyborg, coming to terms with it, having to repeatedly remind himself that he was less than human to the point that it became a part of him. It was easier that way. It was easier to forget than to remember. He'd been trying to end his existence for a very long time one organic piece of himself at a time. That is until he met a particular machine—a realian to be more specific—who possessed a human spirit far more pure than any human he'd met before. There was really only one part of him which had not been mechanized, the part which held his personality, his memories, his very self. She had come to him at the pivotal moment. He'd finished the mission in which he rescued her, but yet he delayed and delayed the moment when he would officially be dead. He became the realian's protector and then a father. One thing had led to another. There was Juli as well, the realian's distant mother who eventually became a part of his life. Before his eyes, he had a family once again along with the other friends he had made all in such a short time.

Those plans which he had had for himself seemed so far away at least while his world was still turmoil, but as soon as it settled down once again, his mind went back to his one goal. Even if there were those he still cared about, hadn't he lived long enough? How long would the cycle continue? Wouldn't Juli and MOMO be just fine without him? MOMO knew of his intent and so had Juli. They had both on separate occasions asked him to stay just a while longer. There was technology that existed which could further extend his life, but the very thought of agreeing to doing such a thing went against everything he'd been trying to achieve all along. And yet would he be comfortable with abandoning the very people who had opened their hearts even to a broken man such as himself? He was at a standstill, unsure of what to do next. It wasn't that he was afraid of death—that had never been the issue even as a human—but he was afraid of harming those who he loved. Would history repeat itself or—That was where Maya stopped him.

"No one knows the future," Maya spoke sagely, "You can only make one choice and it is better if it is of your own free will. Do what you think is best. This can't be for anyone's sake but your own as it is you who must live this life."

"It sounds so selfish to think of it that way."

"It does," she agreed, "But in order to be of use to others we must free ourselves of our own burdens."

"I see," he said after a moment, "It is something I'll have to think on."

"Don't take too long," Maya warned.

"Why Maya, I have all the time in the world," he said in his same neutral tone.

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "Was that…sarcasm?"

Ziggurat looked a bit confused probably more at his own utterance than her ensuing question. "I suppose it is further proof of my own deterioration. Certain programs usually keep such things…at bay."

"You mean even your personality has been subdued because of the form you were brought back to life in? That's terrible."

"One gets used to it quite quickly or better yet I was not allowed to be uncomfortable. Such strong emotions like severe anger or depression are also regulated."

"But that would mean that you really can't feel anything."

"Not quite," he corrected, "I can still feel such things, but I am…unable to express them. Usually that's the case, but I have learned that in certain cases even those programs cannot completely negate effects of emotions."

"So is that why you seem so…calm all the time."

"I've been a cyborg for so long that it is difficult to tell where my own personality begins or the programs which I have dealt with for many years. Perhaps they both contribute in that regard."

"Sorry…it's just difficult to wrap my head around."

"And that's why I've placed my life in your hands—I'm sure you know how best to proceed."

"More sarcasm…?"

"I don't doubt your abilities as a healer, but your magic cannot help me. I am not a person that needs to be healed, I am more like a device that needs to be repaired. In all reality, a scientist would have a better chance, particularly one familiar with cybernetics."

"But—

"Let me finish. I suppose I should be used to people interrupting me since I often encounter people who believe they know far more than a poor cyborg who has lived twice their lives. There must be some small nugget of wisdom that I've missed out on, some ultimate piece of knowledge that I've completely bypassed—

"Oookay," Maya said impatiently drawing out the word. "Alright, I get it, I won't—

"Interrupt me anymore?"

Maya was about to say something, but then thought better of it. She instead placed a pleasant smile on her face waiting for the other to continue.

"How odd—and it looked like you had something burning to tell me."

"Now you're just teasing," she said with mounting annoyance. "Should I expect more of this in the future?"

"I was going to compliment you, Maya. It has been relieving detailing you things I've never told anyone else in full. I tend to keep things to myself out of practicality. I find most people don't want to sit down and listen to me prattle on and on about myself. For good reason, I suppose, it sounds dreadfully boring to begin with. Thank you."

"I wasn't bored at all for the record. I learned a lot just by listening."

"I'm sure it's one of your many pastimes," Ziggurat said standing up.

"Now I can't tell whether you're being sincere or sardonic," Maya said with a frown.

Ziggurat held a hand out to her as she was still sitting down. "I'm usually quite sincere," he replied as she accepted his offer to help her up.

Maya could only grin at this wondering if he meant this literally—she simply could not tell. He lacked the usual inflections in tone when one wasn't being completely serious and that, she realized, would continually throw her off. But then he hadn't been that way before. While she grinned, she knew it was more evidence of his worsening condition.

She was looking at him, but he spoke before she could do so.

"There is nothing more you can do. All there is left is to make progress down this path."

"But what about exertion?"

"If we simply stay here in one place, nothing will change. Even if we have no idea where we're going, it is still better than the alternative."

"Alright," she said after a moment, "I see your point."

There was no obvious physical signs of unwellness, Maya noted, as they walked for the better part of the day. He seemed cognitive and aware of his surroundings—not at all like he could drop dead any moment. He spoke about a man named Voyager and his numerous encounters with the mysterious entity. Ziggurat had known him for a very long time both as a friend and a sworn enemy. These nightmares featured the darkly clad man killing him in various ways. These dreams weren't too far from the truth, Ziggurat had claimed. Voyager's powers went far beyond his own and he could at any time make easy work of him.

"If that's the case," Maya asked, "Then why hasn't he?"

"Circumstances, hesitation," he began. Then he noticed her unconvinced look. "He wanted me alive. I believe he gained satisfaction from watching me suffer. Every so often he would give me that same choice he gave me all those years ago. I think he always believed that eventually I would join him, see the 'errors of my ways', praise him, but I suspect more than anything, he wanted my approval. Odd though it sounds."

"Having approval from someone who you trust and admire…can be a powerful thing—it isn't quite so odd."

"If he truly 'admires' me as you say, then he has a strange way of showing it. Upon his death, it was a great weight off of my shoulders. He was the only person I'd ever encountered that could incite such instant anger from me. There wasn't a program in the world which could dampen my reaction. And now it seems it isn't anger I feel anymore when I see him, just cold, paralyzing fear."

"Are you afraid of him?"

"I've never been afraid of him. I don't think I am now either."

"Then perhaps you're afraid of dying."

"No," he said shaking his head, "That couldn't be the case."

"Even if MOMO and Juli might mourn your passing?"

"Even if," Ziggurat confirmed. "Death is a natural part of life and they have already seen plenty of it themselves. They would mourn and then move on. Those two could do just as well in the world and in their life whether I'm there or not."

 _But I want you to live as well. Would that matter to you…?_ Maya thought silently to herself. "Perhaps it isn't those things that bother you, but perhaps a death at the hands of Voyager someone who you have already triumphed over, scares you the most."

Ziggurat took a deep breath at this—an action, Maya realized, that was purely borne out of habit as breathing did nothing for him. "For now it is only a dream and hopefully this place doesn't make it a reality."

Maya dropped the topic then as she sensed it was probably for the best. They didn't encounter Voyager that day or anyone for that matter. They continued along the path that was beginning to feel a bit monotonous for the remainder of the day. Maya attempted to wait for the other to fall asleep first, but she was obviously more tired than she thought as her heavy eyelids betrayed her. Fortunately, this was not an eventful night. When Maya awoke the next day, Ziggurat was well and unharmed. Perhaps, Maya thought to herself, talking about the issue made it less of one in his mind. Maybe, in her way, she had healed him simply be listening.

He told her later that he had not experienced that nightmare again. He could not remember dreaming of anything for that matter. She wondered if this fact was as good as it sounded. Perhaps now, he was incapable of dreaming. Another loss of functionality was not a good sign.

* * *

 **He was solemn again, more so than usual.** He didn't speak much to begin with, but now he seemed silent. She wondered if she was imagining things and tried to engage him in small talk. He answered halfheartedly and with one word phrases. Nothing sarcastic to say about her odd attempt at conversation, or anything. He seemed in his own world, a world in which she was not invited. Finally, she decided it would be better to be direct about her concerns.

"Ziggurat, what's wrong?—and don't say 'nothing'."

He took a moment to answer. "And what if it is nothing? Then you've placed me into an impossible corner."

"Witty, but you still haven't answered my question."

"I wonder why?"

"I'm being serious, but I suppose this is the most I've gotten out of you all day."

"I've been thinking long and hard about something, about you," Ziggurat began.

Maya had no idea why her heart skipped a beat when he paused there. The thought of him thinking exclusively about her…

"I don't think it would be a good idea for us to continue to travel together," Ziggurat said, "Before you protest," he continued as her mouth opened to speak, "In the state that I am, I am dangerous to you. Who knows how long I would be in control of my faculties? My sensors are beginning to be completely nonsensical, sometimes I have no idea what's happened even a moment before. I might begin to malfunction, mistake you as someone else, and I might not have any control over that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing right now. You're asking me to leave you on your own to die."

"You make it sound so depressing when you say it like that. I simply don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"I'm not a child—you don't have to treat me like one. I can defend myself."

"You can heal yourself…there's a difference."

"I'm not leaving your side and there is nothing you can say or do that could change that."

"Alright," he said after a moment, "It seems you've made your choice and I don't have the patience to keep beating a dead horse. Be prepared for the worst."

Maya turned from him. "I always am."

His mood didn't improve and Maya couldn't tell if it was intentional or unintentional. Not to mention it was beginning to feel like a fruitless task walking down this path. Where were they headed? It was beginning to feel more like a death march than actual progress and perhaps he could feel that too. She wished there was something more she could do, but there was nothing. At least he didn't suffer from those nightmares. She hoped she'd seen the last of them. She couldn't tell if he even slept anymore and for some reason she did not ask to find out.

One morning she'd found him standing there on the riverbank as still as a statue with arms hanging idly at his side. She watched and she watched and she watched and he made no motions at all. A deep panic began to form in her gut as an hour past and then another. Was he…? There was only one way to find out as she cautiously approached his position. Should she call out his name?

"Ziggurat," she said a little too quietly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Ziggurat."

He turned to her slowly and looked at her questioningly as if to ask "What do you want?", but then she feared there was a different silent question he was asking her: "Who are you?"

"Um…hi…" Maya stumbled suddenly timid in his presence.

"How do you know my name?"

"No," she said shaking her head, "I can't believe…You know who I am. I told you before. We've been traveling down this road for days now."

But his eyes did not recognize her; his cerulean eyes were only passively curious. Then in a second he was no longer looking at her but gazing at something else that seemed to be behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up even without knowing who or what was there. Ziggurat approached her and stood protectively in front of her. Perhaps the episode was over—maybe his memories had returned.

"Do you…do you remember me?" Maya asked as she turned as well to see what it was that held his attention now. A dark cloaked man stood before them.

"I don't recall, but it would be best if you ran to safety. I won't last long against him."

"So you don't know who I am and yet…you've already decided that I can't help you fight him."

"Well," he said quickly, "Can you or can you not?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Maya said standing beside him now, "I'll support you."

"If you insist on staying, then I welcome your help."

The cloaked man stepped closer to them and had yet to utter a word.

"Why is he so silent?" Maya asked.

"I don't know, but he must be stopped."

Ziggurat charged forward without further ado, striking forth so suddenly, that Maya could hardly keep up. He did say that he was a _combat_ cyborg. Today she would find out the true extent of his abilities. A blade appeared on one of his arms and slashed quickly at the assailant who took the full brunt of the attack. Then the cloaked man simply vanished. Ziggurat was left with nothing but an empty space and he looked about himself quickly for the cloaked man's retaliation.

"Voyager!" Ziggurat called out, "I don't have time for your games."

"Voyager?" Maya repeated with a gasp, "That's _him_ then. The man in your nightmares."

"Hm, at some point I must have told you about him," Ziggurat said looking at her once again.

"You did—so do you believe me now?"

"At this point, it doesn't much matter—stay alert."

A split second later she felt a sharp puff a wind from behind. Her eyes widened in fear just as Ziggurat's hand erupted in electricity that he slammed into the ground. She only had a moment to move and she made it just in time as the electricity made contact with Voyager. In another second, the cloaked man was gone once again.

"Stay close," Ziggurat told her, "Stay behind me."

Maya nodded and did just this. The next attack happened just as suddenly as the last and this time from the sky. Ziggurat's arms was up defensively in the blink of an eye as an energy blast connected with his form. Maya was a bit surprised that he could handle such a thing as his body erupted in electricity. Soon the energy had dispersed. Ziggurat was bolting forth again dealing out damage this time with a powerful kick from one of his metallic feet. Maya unleashed some healing magic of her own sensing that he'd taken damage from the blast before.

"This is going almost too easy," Ziggurat commented, "I don't like it."

Voyager appeared again to the left of their position, but this time when Ziggurat went to engage him, he was stopped in his tracks.

"Ziggurat, what's wrong?" Maya asked when he wasn't moving at all.

"It's Voyager—he's somehow controlling me. I can't move."

Voyager took his sweet time walking up to Ziggurat, all the time Maya watched desperately wondering what she could do to stop him. Then Voyager spoke, finally.

"You shall perish," he said in a low, dark tone when he was nearly on top of him.

Maya realized she was screaming as he watched his hand go through Ziggurat's torso agonizingly slow. Then she found her mouth mysteriously pinned shut and her screams caught in her throat.

"I want to hear _him_ —you're drowning out his sweet cries of agony."

Maya was forced to listen to Ziggurat's short, pained cries, but very quickly he gave up on it as Voyager went for another jab and then another.

"You're no fun at all, Jan. Maybe I should start on that woman over there."

"No," Ziggurat gasped, "Please…she has nothing to do with this."

"Always so predictable. It's like some hard grained habit. You must protect. You haven't even the foggiest clue who she is, do you."

Maya was attempting to perform a healing spell when she was stopped by an unknown force—Voyager was controlling her as well. She found herself floating up into the sky.

"No—leave her alone! Your quarrel is with me," Ziggurat cried out.

Maya had never heard him sound so desperate before. And Voyager laughed as if it was all entertaining to him.

"You always suffer, Jan. Why do you choose to suffer? You always choose the path of most resistance. Why?"

"Voyager, you are too far gone for me to even get through to you. I've long since stopped trying to understand you, to reason with you. Leave her be. Kill me if you so please, but I tire of your incessant games."

"Have I broken you then?" Voyager asked. "Death is no longer an option. You will join me, Ziggurat, as you should have long ago."

"I will never…" Ziggurat replied weakly.

She needed to heal him and quickly. She could feel his life force weakening. It was dangerously low. What could she do? Her eyes closed from the pitiful scene before her and she began to pray.

"Please…grant me my powers. Just as I can create, I can destroy…Please let me destroy this man."

"For a brief moment, child," a woman's voice spoke in her ear.

Maya could not move to see if there was someone there, but then she felt her magic once again as ample and powerful as they had once been in her world.

"Power to create," she said as her voice began to take on an ethereal quality, "Power to destroy!"

A sparkly light surrounded the cloaked man and then the man was blasted back with a quick bolt of light. All in a second, he was far more wounded than even Ziggurat and he could barely move to pick himself off the ground. His clothes were ripped everywhere. His hold on them vanished and Maya fell to the ground. Her power was now greatly diminished as once again access to her offensive magic was blocked. She made her way quickly to the ailing cyborg's side and began her healing technique. He was still conscious.

"What…What was that?" he managed to ask.

"You're safe now—I took care of him."

"Thank you, whoever you are."

"It's Maya."

"Maya," he repeated, "I hope I never forget it again."

"I hope so too. We're going to get through this together. Just stay conscious, alright."

"I will try, but my systems are already in poor condition."

"I know. As long as you have a will to live, you will survive this."

Maya had her work cut out for her. He did not heal as quickly as she liked even with her magic. She could not repair him mechanically. His body now had constant flashes of electricity flickering in the areas which was damaged and held no organic tissues. When she was done, it was still a struggle for him to even sit up. He grimaced as he was still in pain.

"Will you be able to walk?" Maya asked.

"I'll be able to walk." Ziggurat said, but another groan escaped his mouth as he tried to stand on his own.

"Here, lean on me, okay?"

Ziggurat did so and eventually he was standing again. He was clearly damaged as electricity sparked wantonly now, but at least his wounds were closed up. He did not walk as fast as before, but he did walk. There was no sign of Voyager. Maya hoped the worst was behind them now.

Maya knew that he was in pain and it was not one that would go away, but he did not complain. He made no mention of it besides a few grimaces here or there. She realized she was simply glad that they could go on together. While he did not smile, she did so for him and often. She was in a good mood for some reason and she did not rightly understand why. After a couple of days, the increased sparks of electricity died down until there was nothing left of it much to her delight.

"I had no idea you were self-healing," Maya commented.

"I am, but it is not very efficient and takes quite some time to do its work. Even so, it is only for superficial wounds."

"It's still better than nothing."

Ziggurat could only nod at this.

"Do you think we'll ever make it back to our homes?" Maya asked. She wanted to know his mental state at the moment.

"I have to keep hoping that it's still possible. That's really all we have at this point."

That was a good answer, Maya decided. "And each other," she reminded him.

"That too," he agreed.

The path was no less monotonous and they still had no idea where they were headed. They continued at a leisurely pace as usual. They were in no rush. Their pleasant stroll, however, was interrupted by the unlikeliest of reasons.

"Well, cyborg, you look the worse for wear," a voice said emitting from some place in front of them.

The two of them stopped in their tracks and watched as a woman slowly materialized in front of them.

"Come, come, don't tell me you've forgotten me already," the woman said.

"Veil Publius," Ziggurat said a loud.

"It seems you've survived this ordeal—wandering off onto unknown paths have always proven fatal in this world."

"I could not have done it without Maya," Ziggurat said gesturing towards the young woman, "It was she who saved me more than once."

Veil stepped a little closer to the duo. "Ah, I see, then I suppose I must be grateful. Your presence here, however, troubles me, young woman. I didn't bring you here. I only had a hand in bringing Ziggurat and the other three. Do you know why you were brought here?"

Maya shook her head, "No, it all seems rather arbitrary."

"There are other forces at work here. Though it seems beneficial now, the unknown is always dangerous. I will work to get to the bottom of this."

"Veil, it does seem that your plan is falling apart at the seams," Ziggurat said. "You brought four complete strangers to a world they were wholly uninformed about and only give them a little information to work on. Sometimes you forget that you are working with a group of adults as opposed to a group of dutiful children. Perhaps if there was more explanation, if we were more privy to your design, you would have a more coherent execution."

"Always the logical one and you've grown so bold as to tell me your opinion. Something is different about you. You may have lived for a long time, but I have lived longer still. I will…"consider" your proposal."

"Let me remind you, Veil, that one of us has already tried to kill you. Something I believe, you did not see coming. There is discord among us and with you—nothing good will come of it. You leave yourself open to a decisive defeat from within."

"Cyborg…oh, cyborg, I have thought about those things. I do believe we lack a certain 'togetherness' that is crucial to any successful group. I cannot be around long enough to remedy the situation, but certainly the group itself does not share the same issue. The next leg of the plan has been delayed for some time and in that time, you will get to know each other quite well in a city that will be more to your liking."

Veil turned from him and spread her arms out wide to create a glowing portal. The gold light was almost too bright to look at directly.

"You can create portals?" Ziggurat asked.

"It is a terrible drain on my powers and doing it too often is frowned upon by the gods. I shall use it here for your benefit, cyborg, as I like you the best out of all the ones I've brought here."

"I suppose all we can do is pray that she's not leading us to our deaths," Ziggurat said looking back at Maya.

"I'll follow you, wherever you go."

Ziggurat turned towards the beckoning portal once again and then made his way towards it. He noticed a grinning Veil which gave him pause.

"Don't mind me," Veil said, "Just an inside joke."

"Do tell," Ziggurat pressed.

Veil shrugged, "Must you woo all the women you meet? This one would follow you to the depths of hell if need be."

"Trust is a powerful ally," Ziggurat said, "And I would not allow anyone to follow me to their deaths."

He entered the portal without any further ado along with Maya leaving behind a lightly blushing Veil.

* * *

 **They were walking down another path, but it wasn't long before they came across a large gate that led into the large city beyond.** At its gates stood two guards holding spears.

"More newcomers," one of them stated, "And three days in a row to boot—far more activity than I've seen in years. What's your relation to this woman?"

"A close friend—we've been traveling together for quite some time."

"Same answer as the last ones," the other one commented, "And you wouldn't take offense to being searched, would you?" he asked cautiously.

"By all means," Ziggurat said, "I would not like to hamper your process."

"That's a first," the other said.

"You know what? Just because we like you two, we'll just let you in—a whole heck of a lot nicer than the others."

The gates were opening now and finally they were allowed in. They were both taken by the disparity of the technology, but they didn't have too long to look around in awe as an old woman approached them.

"You must be Ziggurat. Welcome to the City of Oddities—I see you've brought a female companion as well," she said with a bit of edge to her tone at the end.

Ziggurat chose to ignore her tone, "Yes, this is Maya."

"Crucial to your surviving and making it this far, I'm sure."

"Exactly," he said back.

"How does she know all of this?" Maya asked flabbergasted.

"She must be a Seer or something like it. Our presence in this world has not gone unnoticed by others. Veil did mention that other forces were at work."

"Well, come this way, you two. Let me show you to your spacious living quarters. It was only meant for four, but…I suppose you could squeeze in four more. Two of your other friends have already arrived, Sephiroth and Vegeta all with female companions as well."

"Do you know them?" Maya asked Ziggurat.

"I do. When I first came to this world, those two were one of the first ones I met."

"I see. Then it's a happy family reunion."

"It's a reunion, at least."

The old lady gave Ziggurat a key and then disappeared around the corner. He didn't concern himself with the strangeness of her departure. Instead, he simply opened the door and stepped inside. The entryway was spacious enough for the two of them to fit in it side by side comfortably, then it opened up into a very open living room that was already furnished. On the couch turned towards a wide screen television was a blue haired woman with milky white feet on the glass table flicking idly through channels—she hadn't even noticed their arrival. When they moved further into the living room, however, bright blue eyes turned to them.

"Oh—new arrivals," she said with a smile. She stood up then and shook their hands individually. "Vegeta told me about you, Ziggurat and I really didn't believe him, but you're really a cyborg—and who's this?" she asked looking at the one beside him.

"Maya," she said, "Nice to meet you."

Bulma smiled back at her. "Let's see," she said after a moment, "Vegeta's taking a shower, Sharon's in the kitchen making some crazy big dinner, and who knows where Sephiroth is all the time. But who cares about that—you're really a cyborg," she said, her eyes somehow becoming brighter.

"Yes, I am," Ziggurat said affirmatively. He wondered what was so incredible about that to this woman. Perhaps in her world they were revered or something.

"I've worked on a few cyborgs in my time—oh, right, where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Bulma—scientist extraordinaire and part owner of Capsule Corp."

"You're a scientist," Ziggurat began.

"With experience in cybernetics," Maya said with delight as she finished his thought process. "What are the chances of finding someone like that at such perfect timing?"

"The how, doesn't matter at the moment," Ziggurat said back.

"Oh, please, Bulma, scientist extraordinaire," Maya said leaping over and grabbing her hands, "Could you help poor Ziggurat?—he's falling apart and he could die any moment! I don't have much, but tell me what you want and I'll pay it—anything so you can help him."

"You don't hold back, do you?" Ziggurat asked a bit embarrassed of her description of him.

"This is no time to beat around the bush," said a determined Maya.

"First off," began the slightly rattled Bulma, "You don't have to pay me a dime. Any friend of Vegeta is a friend of mine. Second, I really want to help, but I don't have the equipment, we have to find them or make them from scratch. Third, I've been bored as Hell ever since I got here and a new project is just the thing I need!" Then she turned to Ziggurat. "No more moving around for you—you have to lie down and rest because you've clearly been overworked."

Ziggurat didn't have time to consider her proposal; the woman had taken one of his hands and was dragging him along further into the ridiculously spacious condo. They also passed the bathroom where Ziggurat could hear the shower going on. He hadn't heard running water like that in a long time; it was music to his ears.

"Now lie down," Bulma ordered him when they arrived in the untouched room.

"Bulma, I…" He paused when he saw the I-dare-you-to-defy-me look on her face and decided it would be better to simply comply with the woman.

He laid down upon the bed as requested. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a bed quite like this. It was oddly nostalgic, but he felt incredibly silly.

"This isn't necessary," Ziggurat finally said, "I don't require rest."

Bulma stepped over closer to the bed. "You do," she said taking a deep breath, "And before you protest, I know what I'm talking about. If there is anything, anything at all organic about you, then rest is still just as important as it is to any other living person. It is important that we not work against what's already naturally there. It's obvious some bonehead must have programmed you that way, but it was extremely uninsightful. It is also better that you have more control over yourself."

"You mean to make me more human?"

"I mean to improve upon what's already there. Don't worry, you'll be in good hands. For a cyborg, machine and human is supposed to work in tandem with one another, not against. For now, you will rest and not exert yourself."

"If I do that—

"I will immobilize you as well so that you don't accidentally harm yourself. I'm sure it's yet another oversight on the part of the fools who had a hand in designing you in the first place. They were amateurs plain in simple."

"Ziggurat Industries," he said answering an unspoken question, "They were the premier company in the field of cybernetics in my world. Now defunct after that field lost favor with the public. I am perhaps one of the last of my kind."

"I can see why," Bulma said, "No offense," she said quickly.

"No offense taken."

"But they really had no idea what they were doing. You're different. I've seen cyborgs before, worked on them as well, but you're different from any cyborg I've seen before. Perhaps if you told me how you came to be this way, it would answer a few questions for me—but only if you want to; if it's too personal—"

"I was registered as an organ donor. Upon my death, my body was used for scientific purposes and I was…reanimated. Then I continued afterwards replacing more and more of my organic parts with its mechanized equivalent—my mind being the last remaining organ untouched."

Bulma's face remained impassive as he spoke. The entire thing sounded macabre. "You died. You physically died and you were brought back…against your will?"

Ziggurat only gave her a brief nod.

"I'm so sorry—

"Don't be. It is something I've long since come to terms with."

"I can't imagine how that even feels like," Bulma said taking it upon herself to sit down on the side of the bed. "Is there…did you see the other side?"

"My memory has always been…fuzzy about that. Sometimes, it feels as if my human life was more of a dream than something I've actually lived through. There's a gap of time that I know is there even though I can't remember, between the moment I died and the moment I was waking up in a lab. That is something I fear, I will never understand."

"I see. Sorry for prying so much," she said giving him a tap on his shoulder, "And you hardly know me at all."

"That's alright. I feel as if I can trust you. Besides, I'm putting my life in your hands. Though I don't like young women…seeing me this way."

Bulma wore a pained expression, "I understand, but I am a scientist above all else and making sure you're taken care of properly is my top priority." She stood up then and walked towards the door. "Try to stay relaxed and I'll be back to work on you."

"Thank you, Bulma," he said back.

"Of course," she said with a nod.

With that she exited the room. Ziggurat did not expect to be visited by Vegeta in such a short amount of time. He was a bit startled with his entry—his sensors hadn't alerted him of his approach in the slightest. Vegeta leaned against the wall. He looked quite clean, his hair once again vibrant and spiky though he did look a bit gaunt—Saiyans truly did require a lot of food.

"I see my wife's giving you a hard time."

"Your wife?" Ziggurat asked in as much surprise as was possible for him—which wasn't much. "I suppose that explains why I felt I could trust her so easily. It does not happen very often."

"She likes to stay busy and she's been without anything to do for an entire day. Now that she's found herself a 'project' as she likes to call it, well, let's just say I won't be seeing much of her for the time being."

"Back at the village," Ziggurat said as something came to him, "Beside the ocean—that was why you refused."

"The thought of Bulma finding out if I had done otherwise—the stuff of nightmares," Vegeta said with a laugh, "Angry Bulma is something I'd like to avoid at all costs."

Ziggurat got the feeling that it was something he should avoid as well. "And do you have any—

"Two," Vegeta said before he could finish, "A boy and a girl both grown. Thankfully, since it was a handful raising two half-Saiyans."

"I can only imagine."

"Hey!" Bulma's voice from some distance yelled immediately drawing their attention, "You better not be bothering Ziggurat! I told him to rest!"

"Well, that's my cue," Vegeta said with a grin, "We'll talk later."

The Saiyan vanished rather quickly before Bulma came storming in only to find the room occupied with just Ziggurat. He was amused by the entire display and told her nothing of Vegeta's presence. It was nice, Ziggurat thought, as he stared up at the ceiling, to see such a relationship. All too often, he'd seen the alternative.


	14. Open Your Eyes

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 14: Open Your Eyes_

 **Lang woke up to a too bright world.** He was instantly blinded and his eyes scrunched in pain as he tried to adjust. He assumed it was another dream just like all the other times he'd "awakened". He sat up and realized that he'd been laying on a plush couch that happened to be maroon.

"Sephiroth?" Lang called out at once, "Ziggurat, Vegeta?"

His voice echoed about the large room he found himself in. It felt more like a ballroom with the gilded walls, the fancy chandelier hanging far above him, and the marble flooring. He looked over the couch and realized that he could not see the end of the room such was its size. The room was golden lit and he seemed to be in a section of the room that had furniture arranged in a circle. The rest of the place seemed strangely empty as if it was meant for being a dance floor.

Lang climbed out of the couch only to fall to his knees onto the cold marble floor. His legs felt extraordinarily weak and gravity seemed particularly strong. He was forced to use the armrest to steady himself and still he struggled. He sat down again when he realized it was a bit too much for his legs to support his weight. Slowly he massaged his legs with his hands hoping this might regain his strength with time. As of now, he was completely immobile and utterly defenseless. He spied his broad sword on the opposite couch but he knew he could not reach it. He closed his eyes a bit in desperation and to hide from the dim gold lighting massaging his legs as best he could. He wondered how this dream would turn out. Who would he witness dying first? And now he was handicapped.

After a moment of complete silence, Lang made out a constant tick-tock sound coming from somewhere in the distance. He looked behind the couch again and saw that there was, in fact, a grandfather clock planted against the wall a few yards away though it did a good job with blending into its golden surroundings. If the clock was right, it was 6 in the morning.

"I'm glad I got you out of there."

Lang whipped his head back with the sudden intrusion and saw that it was Veil. She'd yet to make an appearance into his dreams, but he supposed it was a matter of time.

"What are you talking about?" he asked her wearily.

Even if Veil wasn't on his list of well-liked people, he had no desire for her death. He would simply have to see how this played out and see if he could somehow change the inevitable future.

"It seems you got the worst hand when you were separated from everyone. You stepped into a world of complete darkness and you were taken advantage of as soon as you entered. Were it not for me, you would still be there now suffering."

Lang looked at her longer, but there was really no way in telling if what she was saying was true or if this was another fantasy. "You're different from the others…"

"Oh, that's right," Veil said with a sigh, "You still think you're dreaming. What will it take for me to convince you otherwise?"

Lang closed his eyes trying to think of anything significant. What if this was real? What if it wasn't? "There was a man who was always there when I woke up. Did you see him?"

"Few people can survive in that region. He is the only known person who has made it his home. Only the gods know what he's really up to there, but it is likely less than charitable. Most who stumble across that area are not heard from again."

She had not been confused in the least when he asked that question which was further proof to her being real. Still, it was something that could be imagined as well. He needed something else just one more thing that would convince him.

"You still doubt me?" Veil asked.

"I don't know what to think," he replied after a pause.

"Well, I did extensive research on you and your three travel buddies and so I know every single dirty little secret there is about all of you. Just because I trust you the most, I'll tell you a secret about one of them that even you don't know about. Now choose which one you want it to be."

"R-really?" Lang asked caught off guard by this proposition.

"Oh, yes, and I promise I'll make it juicy."

"Then…Sephiroth," he said without even a second thought.

"Of course, the enigmatic swordsman, the man who you admire and perhaps something else, hmm? Sorry to burst your bubble, but Sephiroth is incapable of being sexually attracted to another."

Lang frowned at this, but also accompanied by a bright blush across his face. "What makes you think I would even _care_ about that? And…are you sure?"

"Now, now, no need to become depressed. There are other types of attraction which he is susceptible to and fortunately it is all others. Hmmm, let's see there's romantic which is simply desiring romantic interaction with another, there's aesthetic which is simply being singularly attracted to one's beauty, sensual which includes everything touchy-feely minus sex, emotional, well that's pretty self-explanatory, and intellectual which is liking how one's mind works. See there? Now I've given you information that most others don't know about. And surely this isn't something your mind could concoct on its own."

Lang stood up—his legs almost fully recovered—still trying to process all the information he'd been given. "You have to be real then. I barely understand what you're talking about."

"It is simply proof that you have a rather simplistic view on love and that will not capture his heart, but enough of that. I've painstakingly taken time out of my schedule to find all four of you. You were the last of them as you were the most difficult to find. You guys might think I know where you are at all times, but my powers only give me a ballpark location and where you were it's a bit difficult to depend on my sight as it's so infernally dark there. Were it anyone but me it would have been an impossible task. I could hardly sense your presence for some reason—but all that is in the past and luckily you're alive and well. Now I must ask before we leave, are you alright? Do you believe this is reality?"

Veil was looking at him intently and he knew he could not lie to her or at least he felt that she could sense if he was lying or not. "…I just need to see the others. I need to see that they're really alive. That will help me the most."

"You will see them then," she said knowingly.

Before his eyes, Veil created a portal with her own hands. A slight breeze brushed past him and a swirling cerulean circle stood up from the ground. He walked over to the couch to grab and sheathe his blade.

"Rest assured, Lang, none of what you were forced to watch will happen," she said with him standing a little way behind her.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I need all of you alive. I did not work this hard for it to end like that. Go through the portal and you will come upon a great gate. Cooperate with the guards there and the rest should be easy enough."

Lang could only take her word for it as he stepped forth and then through the portal. His world went black for a split second before he found himself in a completely different environment. He looked up and saw the gate that she had referred to. Without further ado, he walked towards his destination.

* * *

 **He was still waiting for the moment he confirmed that he was simply in another dream only this time was more well-thought out than the others.** Still, a small part of him held hope for the opposite as well. He twisted the doorknob and finally stepped into the luxurious condominium.

There was the smell of food and the sound of cooking, but otherwise everything was quiet. He made his way deftly to the kitchen, but he couldn't imagine who could be there cooking. He couldn't actually picture any of the other three doing so. He found a dark blonde woman turned away from him at the stove stirring what smelled like onions in a skillet. Before he could say anything, it was like she had a sixth sense and turned towards him. She wasn't surprised in the least—a fact which puzzled him for only a moment.

"Oh, you must be Lang, the fourth one and you fit the description."

"Umm…" Lang began caught off guard by her presence and knowledge of him, "Who are you then?"

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I'm Sharon Rozas, Ziggurat's wife. And if you were wondering," she continued as she turned around to the stove top again, "I haven't the slightest clue how I got here. It's been crazy ever since—my husband's a cyborg and I have no idea how to get back home."

Lang didn't know where to begin after receiving such information. "You're…Ziggurat's wife? I had no idea he even…"

"You're not the only one in the dark about that one. It's…a long story apparently. I don't entirely understand it myself. He…well, he barely remembers me. I mean, has it really been that long?" She shook her head. "But here I am spouting out random stuff to a stranger. I guess you're looking for everyone else, right?"

"…I am. Are they around?" Lang asked glad to reach a topic he understood.

"Well, let's see. Bulma and Ziggurat are out looking for supplies. Vegeta is out doing some bounty hunting—I had no idea that was a thing you could do around here, but it sounds barbaric." Sharon paused as she thought to herself with Lang almost impatiently waiting for her to continue. "Hmm…who am I forgetting?—Oh, yeah, and Maya, she's probably out doing her daily stroll through the city looking for anyone in need of healing."

Lang waited some more, but she'd returned to her humming before he realized that she was done speaking. "And what about Sephiroth?" Lang asked.

"Oh! Sephiroth? The scary guy with a sword. Well, your guess is as good as mine as to where _he_ is. He isn't exactly forthcoming on his whereabouts. Ziggurat says he definitely isn't leaving the city as it would be too risky to do so. If you're really looking for him, he usually comes back home rather late."

"I see. So everyone's out and you're here…"

"Cooking. I don't think I've ever cooked this much so often in the past, but it's kind of therapeutic, you know, and that Vegeta can _really_ eat so I can go all out if I want. If you're hungry, I've already made quite a bit of food and placed it in the refrigerator," she said indicating the rectangular white box beside her. "Enjoy—it's for everyone."

Speaking of food, Lang realized suddenly that he was famished so much so that he simply went with his instincts and pulled on the handle to open a door—a gateway to cold food it seemed. He'd never seen such a machine, but it seemed magical. Food was something that seemed hard to come by in this world. It was a nice change of pace when he opened the door to the refrigerator and saw stacks and stacks of plastic tubs filled with a good assortment of food some of which he'd never seen before, but he wasn't picky. He grabbed for the nearest and easiest thing to get. Inside, were tubular green stocks bathed in a creamy white sauce.

"What's this?" Lang asked at once to the chef.

"That's asparagus. You've never had it? You might like it, try it out, grab a plate," she said cheerfully with a smile.

He closed the lid to the plastic tub and also took out two others, one was called meatloaf and the other he actually knew which was white rice. After parsing everything out on a plate, he was showed a contraption he'd never seen before called a microwave—an instrument which could instantly heat up his food. Sharon popped it in with little hesitation, but Lang was utterly fascinated the entire time. When the timer finished, he wondered if the food was actually hot. Sure enough upon inspection, his plate was magically heated up.

"I can't imagine what world you come from that doesn't have something resembling a microwave. I bet you also hunt for your food," she said jokingly.

"Actually," Lang said as he looked for a fork, "It's not out of the ordinary. If you go to the bigger cities though, there's markets where you can buy food."

"Now that's interesting. I've only read about such places in books. I bet it would be quite exciting to visit your world."

"I wouldn't describe it as particularly exciting, but sometimes I do feel homesick."

"Don't worry. With Ziggurat here I'm sure we can figure something out to help all of us," she said encouragingly as she returned to her cooking.

She sure had a lot of faith in Ziggurat, but it was unsurprising considering she was supposedly his wife—a fact that was still hard to wrap his head around. If anyone was going to find a way out of here, it was Sephiroth. He was powerful and self-assured. Nothing seemed to bother him not even their predicament and he always seemed one step ahead of everyone else. That was why he had decided long ago to stick close to him.

Lang practically inhaled the contents of his plate as soon as he sat down at the dining room table. After giving his empty plate to Sharon, he stepped out into the streets of the megalopolis to begin his search for Sephiroth or any of the others for that matter. Though it would have been easier to simply wait for their return, he was antsy and tired of lying or sitting around. What better way to stave off the boredom than by exploring—a pastime of his. Even if he didn't find anyone, he would have gotten some much needed fresh air and a chance to stretch his legs.

* * *

 **Lang didn't exactly expect to find Sephiroth, but it was less likely that he'd run into the others.** Bounty hunting sounded like something that happened outside the city which concerned Lang, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ziggurat and that other woman that Sharon had mentioned was probably at specific places buying items and he had no idea who that other woman going around healing people looked like. That he ran into Sephiroth first came as no surprise.

After traversing the jovial streets for over an hour, his eyes caught the sight of something starkly white distinctly out of place. Without even knowing, his pace had increased. The amount of people walking about was moderate and not too difficult to maneuver around. The central part of the street was reserved to carriages and horses—a sight that seemed strange in the midst of so many other advanced technology: mechanical lights, people holding hand held devices, and automatic sliding doors.

He opted to not yell out his name though his excitement was hard to contain. As the outline became more and more distinct, Lang knew he'd found the right person. Of course when he finally made it over to him, Lang found that he was standing before a Weapons shop. Sephiroth seemed not to notice him at first as he gazed at the swords in the window. A gold fanciful katana had caught his eye. It looked more like decoration than something one could actually use in combat.

"Lang," Sephiroth said startling the other, "So you've arrived as well."

"I have. I don't know how long we've all been separated but I'm glad to find you alive and well."

Sephiroth spared the other a glance. "Likewise," he replied with a subtle nod.

Lang couldn't even begin to control the reddening of his ears when he heard such a statement from Sephiroth. He had said it so casually as if it was a normal thing to say, but Lang knew better. Something was certainly different about the tall swordsman. Was he in a good mood? Lang watched the other smoothly open the door to the shop and Lang followed the other inside.

The inside looked much larger than he thought and they were greeted with rows upon rows of swords—it was like a kid stepping into candyland except the kid was an adult and the candy were swords. Sephiroth didn't seem to be looking for anything specific. Clearly he was window-shopping as he began to browse the first aisle.

"I'm guessing an old lady guided you to the condominium," Sephiroth said breaking the silence first to Lang's surprise.

"Yeah, actually. How did you know?"

"The old woman seemed to know I was coming upon entering the city. Veil's doing, I suppose or maybe a Seer like she claimed."

"Your guess is as good as mine. It was kind of weird that she knew who I was by appearance alone, but we've all seen stranger things here, haven't we?"

"Long dead enemies coming back to life, an arbitrarily changing environment…" Sephiroth began, but letting the thought trail.

"Meeting Ziggurat's supposed wife," Lang said as the thought popped into his head.

"Sharon," Sephiroth said singularly. "What a strange match those two make."

"Well, I mean, not really, now that I think about it. She seems like a stay-at-home kind of woman and maybe he had some sort of important job. Two super normal people getting together."

"Do you really believe Ziggurat is 'super normal'?" Sephiroth asked not in a condescending way, but in a truly curious tone. Now he was looking directly at Lang.

"Yeah," Lang said without hesitation. "He's really nice and stays out of everyone's way."

"I think of him as my Masamune—always present, always dependable." His eyes returned to the various swords on the display in front of them. "Vegeta is this rapier—sharp and vicious on one side and completely harmless on the other," he said indicating a curved sword near them. "And you…" Sephiroth said again trailing as he proceeded down the aisle and then down the next one. "A broad sword," he said while indicating the plainest looking sword that Lang had ever laid eyes on and he'd seen quite a few swords. "lacking in depth and quality. Though there must be more to you, I do not care to find out."

Lang wondered if the other was openly insulting him now as Sephiroth stated these things so nonchalantly. Surely Sephiroth knew that no person wanted to be thought of as 'lacking in depth and quality'? Lang opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it as the situation would most certainly sour from there if he dared to try and correct the tall swordsman. He had, in fact, stated quite clearly that he did not care to find out more about him which for some reason put a damper on his entire mood. To be fair, however, Sephiroth had never given him any indication of the alternative. He gave the impression that he cared little about anyone aside from himself.

Sephiroth could apparently spend hours browsing through swords and there were several aisles to go through. Their conversation fizzled out soon enough, but Lang found that he was simply satisfied to be around him and seeing that he was well. Lang hardly knew the amount of time that passed when Sephiroth decided he was done with the place.

"Do you come here often," Lang wondered aloud.

Sephiroth paused after they stepped outside. "This was the first time I came across the place. I wasn't aware that a self-protecting universe like this would allow for such a shop."

"Now that you mention it…"

"And I've not seen any other place quite like this one selling weapons," Sephiroth finished as he began down the street.

Once again, Lang followed and then eventually matched pace with the other. Unlike before, he wasn't walking at breakneck speed and Lang could actually take the time to take in his surroundings.

"Did you have some other place in mind?" Lang inquired to the now quiet Sephiroth.

"Not exactly. I'm heading back to the house."

Something about that statement didn't sit right with Lang. He looked up and realized it was only midday. The way Sharon had described Sephiroth's comings and goings he certainly wouldn't make it a habit coming back so early in the day. Immediately, his wariness shot to the forefront of his mind.

They made it back to the condo in record time despite the leisurely pace. Sephiroth left the other standing in the living room as soon as they stepped in and made a beeline to his room. Lang had no idea where he'd gone off to as he hadn't bothered to explore the place very well.

The sound of cooking still emanated from the kitchen much to Lang's amusement. The living room was spacious and well furnished, filled with strange contraptions that intimidated him. He followed the hall off to the right of the entrance and found several doors to the left and right. The right side held bedrooms. Lang was quickly able to find Sephiroth's; the only one occupied.

He was completely hidden under the covers. His long katana leaned against the wall nearest the bed, his long coat strewn across the nightstand on the other side and black boots sitting against it.

"Are you alright?" Lang asked trying to hide the nervousness from his voice.

Lang didn't expect a truthful answer from him, but he asked anyway.

"I just feel...a little nauseated."

Lang stood at the entrance of the room surprised by his answer. "I-Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Your silence would be most helpful."

"Oh—," Lang said before covering his mouth, "I mean, sorry, I'll leave you in peace."

Sephiroth answered him with silence and soon Lang was forced to leave the other to his own devices. Until such time that the others returned, he bothered Sharon. Soon he was regaled with tales about her life on a planet called Abraxas with her son Joaquin.

* * *

 **Sephiroth was glad when he heard Lang's retreating footsteps.** He could then toss and turn in utter discomfort to his heart's content. He wasn't entirely sure if nauseated was the right word to describe what was wrong, but he knew standing made things worse. As hours began to pass, the pain only worsened and he felt that soon he would be vomiting—an activity he despised. It was most certainly nausea and obviously caused by something he'd eaten before.

Finally, at long last, he slipped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom and stared down at the still, pristine water within the toilet bowl. It took another moment for natural bodily functions to win out over his resistance and once he started, it was difficult to quit. His long hair was bothersome in his position and he was constantly moving it out the way. Just when he thought he was done with the ordeal and began to reach for the toilet paper, the nauseous smell would send him gagging and barfing once again.

At some point, he was able to flush the stool before the cycle continued and grabbed the toilet paper to wipe away the remnants from his mouth. He sat against the cabinets of the sink to catch his breath. The queasiness had gone down substantially; he was able to feel his exhaustion as a brief calm came over him. Without even knowing, he began to doze off. An indistinguishable amount of time passed before he was awakened again by the odd pain in his stomach which seemed relentless now. He didn't want a repeat at the toilet, but he knew it was coming. Was there even anything left to come up?

He answered his own question quickly as he found himself bent over the toilet. This time was different though as he sensed someone else nearby, but he didn't have the presence of mind to figure out who it was. He assumed it was the ever clingy Lang.

He felt his hair being lifted behind him which was helpful to say the least and intruding all in the same breath. He noticed only a green liquid substance was coming up and his gag reflex was unrelenting at the moment. When there was a break in the steady stream of nastiness, the toilet was flushed before he even lifted a hand to do it. A second later a wad of toilet paper was within eyesight. Sephiroth took it unquestioningly and used it quickly before looking over to find out who it was.

Ziggurat stood before him with his usual passive expression. For some reason, Sephiroth was glad it hadn't been anyone else. Lang would have been overly concerned and Vegeta—he certainly did not want that guy to see him in this condition. Any of the other three women would have been too fussy for his tastes.

"It seems Lang wasn't completely off base with his concern about you," Ziggurat said as Sephiroth stood up slowly with his back against the sink cabinets.

"I'm surprised he's not here already," Sephiroth managed to say. He realized he barely had the energy to speak.

"I think Bulma may have placed something extra in his drink at dinner. The boy was practically out of his mind when Vegeta stepped in covered in some creature's blood. One can only assume it has something to do with his experiences when we were separated. He won't be waking anytime soon tonight."

"Is it nighttime already?" Sephiroth asked despite himself.

"Yes, and rather late or should I say early in the morning."

Sephiroth could hardly fathom the time lost. It went from midday to after midnight in a matter of moments.

"A bathroom is hardly a place to be resting if you don't want to cause concern," Ziggurat said in a quieter tone as he turned.

"I will keep that in mind."

Sephiroth listened to the other's footsteps after he was out of sight before challenging himself to walk back to his room. He willed himself to move and then fell onto his bed when he was close enough.

He laid curled on his side as he felt faint but familiar queasiness. He didn't have much energy left for tossing and turning or any movement whatsoever. He knew that fact was dangerous and that he was in need of sustenance, but he doubted he could keep anything down. The entire situation felt hopeless.

Moments later, Sephiroth made out the sound of the cyborg's approaching feet. Though he hardly wanted to admit it, he wasn't entirely annoyed to hear it.

"I know you're still awake," Ziggurat said to his deceptively still form. "I need you to at least try to consume some of these."

Sephiroth didn't protest as the other passed him a chilled cup that was filled partially with ice chips.

"You want me to eat all of this?"

"Yes, but slowly and hopefully that will stay down."

"Why not simply water?"

"Because you would most certainly vomit that back up. Ice would be safer—water in small amounts."

"I see," Sephiroth said setting the glass on the dresser near him.

Ziggurat turned after this intending to leave. The thought of the other leaving didn't sit well with Sephiroth for some reason. It was a feeling strong enough to prompt him to say something before his brain told him that it would be an odd thing to mention.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Sephiroth asked.

"Was there something else that you wanted?" Ziggurat asked placidly.

He wasn't sure what he wanted now that he was being asked so directly. He simply knew that he didn't want to be left alone, but surely he couldn't let the other know this.

"I likely won't get any sleep for the rest of the night," Sephiroth began, but his thoughts scattered after that as he attempted to say something further.

Ziggurat only responded by sitting on the edge of the bed—an act that was oddly relieving to Sephiroth. "Would you like to know something about me?" Ziggurat asked the other.

Had anyone else asked him this question, Sephiroth would have believed the other possessed quite the ego, but he knew he had meant it in a genuine way; an attempt to decipher the cookie crumbs of evidence he left for his own confusing thoughts. He knew, however, that as soon as the cyborg had asked that it was exactly what he wanted. For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to learn more about Ziggurat. But what exactly? Perhaps the exhaustion was eating away at his ability to process his own thoughts coherently.

"How did you come to be?" Sephiroth offered the other after a long moment.

Sephiroth couldn't see the other so well in the dark, but he at least made out his outline. His face was turned away from him as he assumingly thought about that question.

"As a cyborg?" Ziggurat asked.

"No, as a human," Sephiroth said back.

"Well," Ziggurat began thoughtfully, "I don't fully understand what you're asking, but I'll try to answer it."

Sephiroth was glad the other didn't ask for clarification as he most certainly would have struggled with it; maybe the cyborg knew that.

"My parents met early on in their lives, before they were adults. As soon as it became legal for them, they married."

"How strange," Sephiroth commented.

"For some people, they are fortunate enough to find their match easily. As far as I know, they loved each other dearly."

"And then you were born soon after."

"Not quite. There is a plethora of ways for a woman to avoid becoming pregnant at least where I am from and my mother in particular was not too keen on having one so soon. They were young, barely adults, and their families had abandoned them after rashly marrying each other. Socially, it was frowned upon.

"They spent many years trying to become financially stable until they caught a lucky break. My father was able to get into The Galaxy Federation police force which was notoriously difficult to qualify for. He went through a battery of tests, nearly drained what money they did have, and spent nearly two years of preliminary screenings to finally be accepted."

"How do you…know all of this?" Sephiroth asked.

"There are certain parts of my memories completely intact—others which are not. I asked Mom—my mother to tell me how they met and I do remember listening intently to her as she spoke very little about her past," Ziggurat answered. "Their situation changed after that," he said continuing his last train of thought. "They were able to settle down somewhere nice and start a family."

"So you were born out of love by two people who wanted you."

"Well…yes, though I've never heard it stated quite like that."

"But…that doesn't explain everything. Did something happen to them?" Sephiroth asked.

"Something always happens to people. There are always obstacles to overcome."

"Though it seems your life went quite smoothly from there."

"Smooth in a sense, I suppose. I remember Mom always being stressed and saddened though she would always try to hide such things from me. I didn't think it so strange that father was not around—it had always been that way. I know he existed, but I hardly ever spent time with him."

"So you hated your father."

"No," Ziggurat said as if the very thought was preposterous. "I admired him—I still do. My vision of him was colored by what Mom would say whenever I asked where he was. 'He's out protecting everyone from harm,' she would say or something similar. At the time, I'm sure I knew what he looked like, but now he's nothing more than an idea, a concept. I can't remember his face or even what he sounded like yet he guided my decisions profoundly."

"How can you admire someone who isn't there?" Sephiroth asked confused.

"It was normal for me. He was never there in the first place so I didn't see it as wrong or something to hate. I saw his awards. I saw his name in the news. I visited his office before many times. And Mom would reinforce that evidence in her own words. I had no idea that his absence was what made her so sad so I always tried to be positive for her. I did my best at everything hoping that it would make her smile, but it didn't work.

"My father died in the line of duty when I was old enough to understand such things and Mom fell into a total state of depression. Nothing I did could make her smile again not even one of her pretend smiles. She became unfit to take care of me and I was taken in by father's brother."

"You lost both parents so quickly—did that make you hate them?"

"Sephiroth, hate is a concept far from my mind back then. I could not hate those who had only shown me love. I took it all in stride really. I still believed Mom would become better eventually and the man who I had never really known and merely admired from afar could still be seen in the same way except now it was stronger. I understood he was dead, but I didn't associate his death with sadness or anger—I simply didn't know him well enough to feel the full extent of his death."

"Did your mother ever recover?" Sephiroth asked.

"No," Ziggurat said with the first sign of distress. "I visited her often in the beginning, but then visitation became restricted and I become busy pursuing the same career as my father. After many attempts at her own life, many of which had been kept secret from me, she committed suicide. I pretended as if I was unaffected by the whole thing. I coped simply by devoting my life to my chosen career—it was the only thing which gave me joy."

"You took joy from conflict and fighting," Sephiroth stated as if fact.

"Though I did undergo rigorous training for that sort of thing, it was simply a necessary part of the job, unavoidable and a means to an end. I enjoyed being in a position to protect those who could not do so themselves. Fighting on its own was meaningless, if there was no purpose."

"But surely there was a lot of combat in your line of work—if it really held no value to you, why pursue that particular career? A doctor of some kind would have fulfilled the same purpose."

"No, such people are there to help those who are already injured. I wanted to bring an end to these tragedies altogether."

"I see, but surely you know you cannot prevent all crimes and that there will always be a need for doctors. You could avoid combat altogether."

"In my mind, I imagined myself a small cog in a larger machine. Our ultimate goal was to eliminate crime and I wanted to be part of making that come true. Fighting was a small, negligible annoyance. The better I was at it, the better I was at getting things done. Combat was nothing more than numbers and strategies."

"You devoted your life to protecting others. Was it fulfilling?"

"Parts of it was. I would do it all again if I could."

"How does Sharon fit into all of that?" he asked.

"She came out of nowhere and she came when I was most vulnerable. After Mom's death, I dove into my work intensely. My entire world revolved around it. I was always willing to relocate and follow where the cases led. Soon I was exclusively being assigned to cases that others considered unsolvable specifically anti-terrorism. I used to know each case quite intimately, but now I can hardly recall. When I was working a case, the world made sense, but when I went home—whatever arbitrary place that might be—everything fell apart completely and I knew I was teetering on the edge of sanity. I was given accolades for what they considered was a high success rate, but my mind would dwell on the 8% of which I had failed miserably in which the families and loved ones remained deprived of closure and the killer still somewhere out there.

"It was during the final case I would investigate that Sharon came into my life. She was instrumental in solving that particular case and as a matter of duty I was in constant contact with her. She understood me in ways that no one had for a very long time and because I was so socially deprived I fell for her instantly. I married her because I believed things would become better with her by my side. It was just a glimmer of hope, but that was enough."

"And yet here you are," Sephiroth said after it was apparent the other had finished. "What about that case? Was it successful?"

"It was a monumental failure," Ziggurat stated plainly. "I couldn't protect my subordinates, not even myself and I was too distracted to notice the culprit right under my nose."

"That story sounds…depressing. Why would you willingly do it all over again? What reward would you get from that?"

"If I can stop someone else's suffering, then that is reward enough for me."

Sephiroth was glad for the darkness now. It could hide the warmth which had spread across his cheeks and the intenseness of his gaze upon the solemn cyborg.

"Ziggurat, I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you."

"I could say the same for you," Ziggurat said back without hesitation.

"This next 'question' is very important to me or more like a scenario. You loved your parents and they defined who you grew up to be—am I correct so far?"

"They did influence me, but perhaps 'define' is too strong a word."

"Influenced then," Sephiroth corrected himself. "What would you do if you found out it was all a lie? You discovered one day that your mother wasn't the one you envisioned, but something else entirely, maybe something monstrous. Everything you thought you were is now a lie, your very identity utterly skewed."

"If I discovered such deep so-called secrets I would hardly give it much credence until more evidence was found—that is if I was old enough to think in that way in this scenario. And if these things were true, it probably would not change what I thought of myself or my parentage. Whoever I was raised by would not make them less of a parent if they happened not to be biological. It is your experiences that define you and the decisions you make."

"What?" Sephiroth asked genuinely confused, " _That_ is your response to finding your true heritage?"

Sephiroth very nearly held his breath when Ziggurat turned and looked directly at him. "Knowledge of one's heritage can be enlightening, but their culture, their struggles, their goals are not your own. Learn from their mistakes, listen to their wisdom, but your path should not be defined by the events of a past of which you had no control over or part of."

"But you followed in your father's footsteps despite not knowing him well and only based off his past achievements," Sephiroth pointed out.

"I simplified my story, but there were many reasons why I ended up choosing that particular career. I was influenced, yes, by those around me, even a past that did not include me, but in the end it was something I genuinely wanted to do."

"And how…do you know that?"

"Because I enjoyed it as I said before. It was something I could do for the rest of my life."

By then, Sephiroth had managed to go through most of the ice chips. After allowing the first few melt on his tongue, he became terribly thirsty and he felt as if he could chug down an entire jug of water. A subtle churning in his stomach after emptying the contents of the cup warned him against such things. He could still ignore it, but he knew he could not stomach anything else despite being parched.

It was all simply disconcerting as well as the words coming from Ziggurat in a different sense.

"There are few things in my life which have given me satisfaction and certainly nothing to the extent that I would devote my life."

"Nothing at all?" Ziggurat asked rhetorically, "Happiness is a fleeting thing. Perhaps if you open yourself to new experiences, you might discover it."

Ziggurat stood up after this just as his thoughts began to ponder over his last words.

"Do you have some pressing matter to attend to?" Sephiroth questioned.

"You should rest to allow your body to recover—you'll feel more like yourself."

"I will attempt rest, but I likely won't achieve it," Sephiroth replied drearily.

"Wait for a moment, I have something that might help you."

Sephiroth watched the other leave as his mind focused on something that stood out to him: "…you'll feel more like yourself…" as if he hadn't been that for a while. It became obvious that the cyborg perceived him as acting strangely and had written it off as being caused by his current sickness. Perhaps that was true, perhaps it wasn't, but he could not deny his sudden interest in the cyborg.

He looked up when Ziggurat returned holding a halfway full cup of what was likely water.

"This is the same sleeping powder given to Lang—it was something Bulma had and surely it should work for you. Drink slowly so your body doesn't reject it outright."

Sephiroth took the cup from Ziggurat's outstretched hand silently. He merely looked at the cup debating whether he should ingest such chemicals. By then, Ziggurat was already retreating and Sephiroth could think of nothing to say to make the other stay without it sounding desperate.

He took small sips as suggested and after the third one, a sudden and unnatural exhaustion overtook him. He placed the cup down quickly and hid himself under the covers once again before falling into a deep sleep.


	15. Lesson 2

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 15: Lesson 2_

 **Sephiroth found himself thinking more and more about love.** Ever since that time that Bulma brought it up, it had slowly begun to consume his every thought. Mainly, it was because of its strangeness to him. Why did so many people fall prey to it? And was he capable of such a thing? Was it truly a weakness?

His room was next to Vegeta's and the walls were thin. Almost every night his sharp ears would pick up on the sounds of lovemaking. Instead of being annoyed, he was intrigued by it and he would listen intently. Their sighs of pleasure, the panting noises, the calling of names, the moments of climax right before things would quiet down again and only the ruffles of sheets could be heard. Both were quite passionate. Bulma was more vocal. Vegeta was subtle.

Vegeta was so passionate and vulnerable—that was what struck Sephiroth by surprise. Walking in on Vegeta lip locking the other so deeply and with gusto and strength had been eye-opening to say the least. That was the kind of thing a woman like Bulma would enjoy. And at that moment he had felt something stirring within but he could not figure out what it was. It was the same feeling that came upon him as he listened to the ruckus next door as his ears strained to hear Vegeta.

All of it was a far cry from what he had seen between the cyborg and Sharon. Sephiroth had admittedly known very little about Ziggurat and he was caught off guard when Ziggurat apparently knew who Sharon was. Sharon, the dark blonde woman who seemed at times ditzy and sometimes not all there while at the same time being frank and no-nonsense. This was the kind of woman that Ziggurat had fallen for at some point in his life.

It was soon after Ziggurat had first come to the house and Bulma had pretty much forced him to stay in bed. Sharon, meanwhile, had been cooking up a storm in the kitchen. She'd gotten it into her head that it would be nice to prepare a big dinner for all those residing at the house to welcome them and to have more formal introductions. What better time to do it than around good food? As Ziggurat did not eat, when it came time to eat, he did not immediately join. Sephiroth had managed to step back into the house at the right time and was practically dragged into the dining room—he allowed it only because he was, in fact, hungry and there was obviously an abundance of food. Not to mention, he knew that if he didn't get to it soon, Vegeta would have done away with it.

The evening had gone surprisingly smooth considering who was in attendance—Bulma, Vegeta, Maya, Sharon, and Sephiroth. Bulma did most of the talking trying to include everyone. Sharon, who was in good spirits humored her along with Vegeta and Maya. Sephiroth did nothing more than observe only saying a handful of words the entire time. Bulma had mentioned Ziggurat, but that was all. Sharon simply commented that she'd probably introduce herself to him later.

Sephiroth had heard the clunking of metallic feet before everyone else who was much too occupied with themselves to notice. Bulma perked up eventually when Ziggurat was closer and called out to him.

"Hey, you're supposed to be resting!"

"Surely a quick trip to the dining room won't kill me," Ziggurat had said back coolly as he finally entered probably to see what all the ruckus was about.

To be fair, the poor cyborg had only seen Vegeta and Bulma and spoken to hardly anyone; Bulma would pounce on anyone who so much as looked at the bedroom door. Sephiroth suspected that the other liked to socialize far more than what he was letting on or at the very least being around people. Sephiroth watched as Sharon's expression changed from one of contentment to utter surprise as she looked up.

"Jan?" Sharon asked in surprised tones. She was already standing up. "Jan, I can't believe it's you!"

Sephiroth at first thought it had been a case of mistaken identity, but Ziggurat did nothing to stop her as she came to him and embraced him outright—an embrace, Sephiroth noticed, that the cyborg did not return in the slightest. Maybe she was mistaken. She stopped when she realized she was getting no reaction from him. Meanwhile, the entire room had grown quiet. They were looking at one another for a moment too long before Sharon spoke again.

"Don't you remember me? I'm Sharon, your wife."

Up until that moment, the cyborg had worn a blank expression—the usual one he wore. Sephiroth swore he saw something physically "click" within the cyborg. He hadn't known that Ziggurat was capable of being confused and surprised—those things were very human emotions and certainly he was no longer human enough for those things. Perhaps this was a special case. Perhaps this woman could break through his shell with relative ease; fitting for someone who was supposedly the wife.

"Sharon…" he finally said though slowly, "I can recall…somewhat."

Sharon seemed floored by this lukewarm response. "Somewhat? But I remember you perfectly! What in the world has gotten into you? What—" and she paused as she fully took the other's appearance in. "What happened to you?"

Ziggurat closed his eyes as if it was too much to consider at once. "Forgive me, I've almost completely forgotten what you looked like, what you sound like—

"But you remember me, right?" Sharon pressed.

"It has been a very long time," he said turning away from her now.

"How long?" Sharon demanded.

"Long enough for me to have moved on."

"Jan, you can't mean—" She took hold of one of his metallic hands as if this gesture would somehow do something significant.

It was quite easy for him to pull his hand away from her gripping hand—Sephiroth was sure Ziggurat was a great deal stronger than her. "It's Ziggurat. Sharon, you died over a century ago. Whatever marriage we had in the past is now defunct."

"Impossible!" Sharon cried out. The atmosphere had grown quite tense. "I've been _living_ , Jan, a very wonderful and peaceful—

"You died!" Ziggurat barked at the other causing Sharon to jerk back. It startled not only Sharon, but everyone else in the room and it was obvious that he realized this. "I apologize—I'm not feeling quite like myself."

Ziggurat vacated the room. Sharon had a mind to follow him, but Bulma leaped to her feet and stopped her dead in her tracks as she took hold of one of her shoulders.

"Let go of me!" shouted a determined Sharon. "I can't just leave things like this—Jan and I have some things to discuss."

"First of all," Bulma said as her grip only became stronger against the other's struggling attempts, "He likes to be called Ziggurat. Secondly, both of you need to cool off so _sit_ back down again else I'll do it myself."

This seemed to anger the woman as she twirled on her heels to further engage Bulma finally breaking free from her grip. "Who do you think you are?—I'll call him as I see fit, not by some silly made up name."

Sephiroth noticed that Vegeta was not at all concerned for Bulma's safety and Bulma was unconcerned that Vegeta was unconcerned. Vegeta wasn't nearly as protective of her as Sephiroth had first supposed and that seemed to work for the couple. No need for Vegeta to jump in and 'support' Bulma as it seemed she was fine all on her own. It was a girl fight anyhow.

"It's not just a silly made up name—He chose the name of the company who was responsible for making him as he is now: Ziggurat Industries," Bulma said, "Sit down, alright."

Bulma was finally able to ease the haughty woman back to her chair which was beside Maya. Sephiroth had pretty much finished off his food, but he was far too intrigued to leave. Vegeta, on the other hand declared that he was done and left the room. Sephiroth suspected that he'd gone in search of Ziggurat probably to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

"I don't understand," Sharon said after a while, "This isn't how I pictured things at all. It isn't what that man said would happen."

Maya had grown silent and her usual calm face was now struggling to conceal her anger, but Sephiroth knew that whatever she had to say would be said soon enough.

"I prayed for his wellbeing as well. He said that he would give him that. Eternal Peace."

"When you say 'he', you mean Voyager, don't you?" Maya said with a voice that was now passively angry.

Sharon stared at the woman as if she'd spoken a foreign language.

"You remember Voyager, don't you? A man who was responsible for countless deaths. He was so elusive that the police had to form a special investigation detachment team to track him down—your 'Jan' was its Captain and you helped him by examining body after body that bastard left in his wake. In fact, that was how you first met 'Jan'."

Sharon nodded slowly now.

"And even after being so involved, even after knowing his M.O. and what he was capable of, you allowed Voyager to take you as well—

"No!"

"Yes," Maya said back, surprisingly keeping her composure. "Even worse, you brought Joaquin into it. You walked right into the jaws of the beast and Jan watched all of this. He watched you and his son die. _That_ was your Eternal Peace."

"No, please…" Sharon whimpered now.

"He couldn't save you; Voyager was too powerful. Jan refused to suffer the same fate as you. He knew that whatever happiness you would experience would be false. He refused to join you in your false reality and he refused to join Voyager. There was really only one option left to him. With nothing else to lose, he decided to take his own life."

"That's enough, Maya," Bulma said. Her voice hadn't been as authoritative as before, she was a bit in disbelief as well.

"That's not what happened," Sharon said with a wavering voice. She seemed just about ready to start crying. "No…"

"I don't much care what you think happened. You're a poor excuse of a wife," Maya went on to say as she stood up from her empty plate.

"Maya," Bulma warned.

But Maya ignored Bulma. "And for you to think it would be rainbows and sunshine after all of that is beyond silly."

"Maya!" Bulma said again this time with more force.

"I'm done," Maya bit back finally acknowledging the woman.

She took her and Vegeta's dishes back to the kitchen and then left without saying another word. By then, Sharon was crying waterfalls. Sephiroth wasn't even pretending to be interested in his food at all since his plate had long since been cleaned off. He studied Sharon a bit longer wondering what Ziggurat had seen in her, in the first place to have married her. She possessed little mental strength and was prone to deceiving herself if it made her avoid harsh truths. Either Ziggurat had poor taste in women or she must have presented herself differently back then. Maybe Ziggurat had been a different person back then as well. As for now, they made for a poor couple. Sharon excused herself refusing help from Bulma leaving Sephiroth with Bulma.

Bulma was visibly relieved after Sharon's exit as she sighed and then turned to Sephiroth. "Enjoying the show?" she asked.

"Very much," he said back.

"You would. This is going to give me a headache. I'm not quite done with Ziggurat, you know, repairing him and he certainly isn't ready to be dealing with these sorts of things. In the way that he was built, he was almost completely blocked from any deep emotions and that sort of thing is traumatizing—to not being able to think as you want, to feel as you want. Even to someone like you, it would be quite an adjustment. These would be programs that you could not supersede. Imagine…" Bulma began trying to get her point across to Sephiroth, "Really wanting to kill someone, but not being able to lift an arm to do so and having your thoughts redirected every time. No matter how much you wanted to kill that person eventually that feeling would be taken from you and your desire would dissipate whether you wanted it to or not."

"I suppose it is a bit like when that man tried to control me."

"Yes," she said with a nod, "But far worse and far more absolute. Imagine living that way for a very long time. Accepting things the way they were. All of it was in the name of having the most efficient cyborg ever that did not have to deal with emotions, but still had a mind with which to think. They wanted all the advantages of having a human mind without any of the disadvantages. A silly concept really. And here I am, thinking of rewriting these programs or just eliminating them completely, but now I wonder if it would do more harm than good. I mean, by this time, he probably has no idea _who_ he is outside of those programs."

"Why don't you just ask him?" Sephiroth said after a moment, "This all sounds like something he should decide for himself."

"I already know what he would say. With someone who's been so out of touch with his own emotions, with someone who believes those things would in fact hinder him, he'd opt for continuing in the same way as always. He would decide that because he doesn't know any better."

"Sounds like you have your answer."

Bulma looked at him as if he'd said exactly the wrong thing. She sighed exasperatedly. "I wanted to do this without him knowing. That way he'd get used to it and then accept it just like he did when he first became a cyborg."

"Ah, so you gave the illusion of choice where there wasn't any."

Bulma frowned at the other. "Ugh, you make for a terrible friend—now, I do feel guilty. I just want your opinion. Should I just not bother with it or should I stick my neck out?"

"I'm also the worst the person to ask about things such as this. What I do know is that you are quite knowledgeable about human psyche and you seem to be able to understand people with surprising ease. Any decision you make would be better than any opinion that I might have—and if you wanted to know, I have no opinion at all on this matter. So long as you don't kill him, I could care less what you do."

"You're right. I'll see how things play out and then make my decision," Bulma said with a grin.

Sephiroth hadn't been sure how she inferred this from what he said and it was only later in hindsight that he realized that, in fact, that was what he'd been getting at. Funny, how she knew what he was saying before he even realized it himself.

He wasn't sure if emotions was a weakness or not, but he knew that they could be easily manipulated. He also knew that he had had no issues with his own getting in the way of the things he needed to do. During the brief span of time in which he had been 'controlled' by someone else, he knew that he loathed that feeling. He wondered if he'd be able to stand being that way for any extended time.

As he laid in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling, he knew he would not last long in such a condition. Sephiroth listened for any movement next door and heard none for a while until someone with light footsteps climbed out of bed and exited the room. It was probably Bulma. There were no motions made at all by her partner. Partially curious, he waited a moment before leaving his own room. He passed by three closed doors which were the other three bedrooms and two full bathrooms on the other side. Further down the hallway, the third, half bathroom, was situated closer to the front door. The hallway led straight into the rather spacious living room which housed a massive plasma screen television (of which Bulma seemed to have a monopoly over) and two long couches and a love chair. In the middle was a glass rectangular table with gilded rounded edges that was now littered with mechanical odds and ends. There was Bulma hard at work with a tweezer in hand fiddling with what looked like an incredibly small chip. Apparently even a lively night of vigorous activity with who Sephiroth considered to be one of the most powerful beings he'd ever encountered, could not distract her from her work. It struck him how driven she must really be or perhaps she simply enjoyed tinkering with mechanical paraphernalia.

She didn't look the worse for wear, a bit sweated is all, but she was fully engrossed in that chip of hers. So much so that she didn't notice him in the slightest. He stood silent for a moment and then moved a little closer to her. He wondered how best to alert her of his presence without startling her, but found no answer and simply spoke aloud.

"Hard at work, I see," he said.

With her position on the ground bent over the table, Sephiroth could visibly see her flinch in surprise. She looked back at him with a frown.

"Geez, you'll give me a heart attack sneaking around like that."

"I wasn't sneaking," Sephiroth said as she sighed and returned to what she was doing. "You simply are not aware of your surroundings."

"I like to tune everything else out when I'm doing something important. So what are you doing up so late?"

Sephiroth didn't have a good answer for her and decided he would ignore the question altogether. If Bulma noticed, she seemed unconcerned about it. His eyes noticed for the first time that there was, in fact, someone standing out there on the veranda. It couldn't be Vegeta and the figure was too tall to be Sharon or Maya—not to mention they'd made their beds in the adjourning sunroom.

"The poor man has been out there all day it seems," Bulma said who noticed where he was looking, "A testament to his patience. Amazing how he can stand in the same place for hours and hours."

"Something to do with Sharon?" Sephiroth asked.

"Probably."

The tall swordsman made his way over to the glass door that led outside.

"Going to cheer him up?" Bulma asked with a bit of grin in her tone.

"Something like that," he replied.

It was a sliding door. He opened and let himself outside to the almost frosty air. Ziggurat stood unaffected by the temperature. The cyborg turned to him a little at the intrusion.

"Sephiroth," Ziggurat said acknowledging him. "Glad to see you've made a full recovery."

 _Surprisingly alert for someone who seems in a daze_. "Ziggurat," Sephiroth said back walking up beside the man. "Is this what you do on your free time?—stare at nothing for hours?" he said in an almost teasing tone.

"Better than going on a killing spree out of boredom," Ziggurat said back in what Sephiroth could only take as a retort—something an emotionless cyborg would probably not be capable of. Perhaps Bulma had made her decision already concerning how he should be programmed.

"Is that what you think I do," Sephiroth replied out of curiosity.

"You almost sound surprised, but I know your type quite well."

"So you claim to know who I am having spent little time with me. Tell me, then, what is 'my type'?" Sephiroth said humoring the other.

Ziggurat was silent for a long while to the point that Sephiroth thought about simply reading his mind—a last resort as he did not care to trek through the meaningless dribble of lower beings.

"You are incredibly self-centered, uncaring individual, who lacks a certain depth of emotions. Irresponsible with the lives of those around you, you reach for unrealistic goals—goals that are too grandiose to ever be accomplished by any one man. And you have a penchant for violence that you have gone to great lengths to conceal—for what, I have no clue, but it is there nonetheless. I would not put my trust in a person such as that."

"No one has asked you to trust me—

"But that is exactly what Veil wants of us. That is why we are here on hiatus if you will. She wants there to be a stronger bond between us all."

"Hm," Sephiroth said almost to himself, "Then we shall be here for quite some time." He glanced at Ziggurat then. "The part about 'unrealistic goals'. Do you not think we'll find a way out of this realm? Surely, it would not do to lose confidence in the one thing we've been striving for."

"You strive for a different goal, Sephiroth. Do not try to deny it."

"You sound confident in your evaluation of me. Why do you then continue to associate yourself with me if I am such a despicable person?"

He sighed then. "Because you are needed. We are all needed. Has that not been made abundantly clear to you? I am willing to come to a cautious understanding of you for the wellbeing of everyone else."

"You're right. We should try to understand each other better."

"A task you will struggle at."

"Again, you presume to know me so well," Sephiroth said with a frown.

"We've already spent quite a bit of time together and let's say for example's sake that I _have_ been avoiding you and not the other way around. Shouldn't you know me just as well if not better? Tell me what you think of me and I will let you know if it makes any sense at all."

"How can you be the judge of such a thing? It is completely subjective."

"And I am completely objective. You're stalling."

Sephiroth had somewhat of an opinion about the cyborg, but they were vague at best. It would not hold the same air of authority that Ziggurat had had. Besides, he did not concern himself too much about the lives of other.

"I cannot rightly put it into words."

"I see," the cyborg said simply and returned his gaze towards the night. "It is to be expected."

There was silence between them for a moment before Sephiroth spoke again. "You are far more vocal than I've seen in the past. You tend to keep your thoughts to yourself, but I suppose those are things you cannot help—it is simply how you were programmed."

"Bulma doesn't think I see what it is she's doing, but I won't mention it to her if she feels as if she cannot tell me directly."

Sephiroth looked at the other and saw that his expression remained just as stoic as always. "Are you not upset? Do you feel as if you should not have a say in such matters? Or are you too scared to rock the boat?"

Sephiroth imagined that any verbal war with Bulma was something to avoid. Perhaps, Ziggurat felt the same.

"I trust her judgement."

"On your entire personality. That is quite some trust."

"My own beliefs and what those programs sought to do are aligned. I would not change either way. I have never been an overly emotional person. I actively try to keep a clear head and to remain objective in all things. Without those programs, I would simply have to try harder at remaining that way as I had when I was human. Bulma's choice is superficial at best, but she does not need to know that. I value her hard work and persistence and I would not want to make her feel any less important."

"I see," Sephiroth said folding his hands behind his back, "Much ado about nothing."

"Exactly."

They stood silent for a while both with unreadable expressions. Sephiroth noted for what felt like the millionth time that Ziggurat was taller than him. Though it was only by two inches, Sephiroth was not used to the feeling of being shorter in any way. Sephiroth, however, had not come there to talk about how his recovery was going. He had a more burning question and it was probably the true reason Ziggurat had been standing out here.

"What of Sharon?" Sephiroth finally asked.

Ziggurat didn't so much as blink when he said this. "What about her?"

"Do you still love her even after all the events that have transpired?"

This time Ziggurat gave him a side-glance, "That almost sounds like concern."

"Do not mistake my curiosity for concern. Will you answer my question?"

Ziggurat sighed, "Of course I do. My life with her is fuzzy at best, but I remember the vows we took and how much we meant to keep them. Even after both of our deaths, somehow we are still here and I cannot simply reject her."

"And you would forgive her that easily?"

"I don't blame her for what happened. Voyager meant to use her and my son as leverage whether she was complicit in his scheme or not. We were constantly worried about each other's wellbeing; the world was not a safe place. The promise of Eternal Peace begins to have a lure even to those who know better. All it would have taken was a moment of weakness. Her heart was in the right place, but she was taken advantage of."

"This is the kind of woman you would fall for?"

"I cannot imagine how it must have been like living as she did for all these years. She would be completely out of touch with reality…Given time, she could readjust so long as she has the right support."

"You're making a lot of allowances for her. Are you sure you're looking at this objectively?"

"Objectivity doesn't exist when it comes to those who you love. The thing is," Ziggurat began as he stepped closer to the rail and leaned against it, "I don't expect her to come running back into my arms proclaiming she'd spend the rest of whatever life she has with me. She'll come to know me once again and see what I've become. And you know there are things that she'll want that I can't give her. I don't intend to trap her. I fully expect her to move on; as it should be."

"Giving without expecting anything in return. You've truly lost all sense of logic."

"Logic has nothing to do with this," Ziggurat said in a way that made Sephiroth rethink his latest comment. "You speak of objectivity, logic and those cold terms won't help you with this, it would only bring you more pain. Perhaps it really is possible that you've gone through the entirety of your life never feeling that way about another—it's painfully evident now. You did not come here out of concern or even to give advice, but it is how you said before, it was purely out of curiosity."

Ziggurat looked directly at him with eyes that seemed to cut into his very soul. Was this what true wisdom felt like?—so searing and unrelenting? It was at that moment, that Sephiroth truly could believe that the other had been around as long as he claimed. There was a weight behind his gaze that he had never witnessed before in anyone else. He found himself unable to look away and he found himself somehow completely exposed and it was utterly uncomfortable.

"Perhaps I have found an even greater tragedy."

Sephiroth couldn't find any words to say even as his mind scrambled to find them.

"I suppose I've stood out here long enough," Ziggurat said after a moment of the other's muteness. "Please excuse me."

In the end, all he could do was listen to the loud clonking of his metallic feet against wood, as the glass door was slid open, and the muffled faded sound of him moving further into the house.


	16. A Blooming Rose

AN: _**Merry Christmas**_ and _**Happy Holidays**_ everyone! A present for my loyal readers of this story. Another Sephiroth-centric chapter 'cus I'm having so much fun characterizing him.

* * *

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 16: A Blooming Rose_

 **He was acting differently.** Ziggurat's usual solemnity was more pronounced. He spoke little to people as if actively trying to go unnoticed, but Ziggurat was never far from Sephiroth's mind as he watched him closely these days. From afar, Sephiroth observed the other sitting alone for hours on end be it in the house or elsewhere in the city. He was always so quiet yet alert. When outside, the cyborg preferred the benches hidden in shadows seldom used by others.

His melancholic eyes had only deepened in despondency and the hint of a smile which would sometimes grace his lips was now nonexistent. Sephiroth wondered if all this could be attributed to Bulma's tinkering of his internal programming. She had, in layman's terms, made him more human and given him control over his emotions and functions.

What bothered Sephiroth even more than Ziggurat's odd behavior as of late was his concern about it in the first place. What did it matter what the cyborg chose to do in his free time? He bothered no one and demanded no attention.

Yet seeing Ziggurat that way made him begin to feel the same way. It was preposterous! He realized much too late that his own day consisted of solely observing Ziggurat and "observing" was beginning to sound like a word too kind to describe the hours he spent doing it. Was he that bored? Had he nothing else to do?

Even Vegeta began to notice a change in the cyborg. He only knew this much from sharing a dinner with the others on one particular night. Along with that, Ziggurat didn't even make an appearance as he usually did at such gatherings. Sephiroth feigned ignorance to Vegeta's musings about Ziggurat which was easy to do. But others had noticed as well. Bulma believed it would blow over soon. Others thought it was probably because they were being forced to essentially be at a standstill in this strange world away from loved ones. Sephiroth did not voice his thoughts, but he did catch Lang giving him an accusing look as if he knew something others did not. It mattered little.

Sephiroth continued to watch him closely until he began to fear the worst. Ziggurat's composure was beginning to slip, but not in any obvious way. Sephiroth hadn't seen much of his combat prowess as most conflicts was settled quickly with him and Vegeta. He did not know that the cyborg possessed mechanized weapons. A small pistol materialized in his hands. The first time Sephiroth had even considered him a threat was at that moment. What else could he simply create out of thin air seemingly and why did he have access to such a destructive instrument? Either way, Ziggurat brandished it casually, twirling it around his finger, but then in the end he simply held it in his palms gazing down at it intently. And that gazing went on for far too long. Nothing else occurred, but it left Sephiroth with a cold feeling deep inside, a feeling that soon denied him sleep and sometimes even his appetite.

The next day, it was a different gun and the same activity would resume. There was a different hand gun every passing day. A combat cyborg holding a gun should not have bothered him so much.

But it did.

One restless night, Sephiroth heard the distinct sound of Ziggurat moving about and then the front door being opened and closed. He sat up in his bed alarmed and ramrod straight as if waking from a nightmare, but he had clearly heard those sounds. Ziggurat had never done such a thing before—not in the dead of night. His heart skipped a beat, but soon he was scrambling out of bed though still remembering to make minimal noise—no need to wake up the others and have them panicking. It wasn't out of courtesy he did this, however. Instead it was a mixture of habit and selfishness. Whatever Ziggurat was thinking of doing that night, Sephiroth would be the one to persuade him to rethink his plans.

Sephiroth followed the sounds of Ziggurat's distinct footfalls. The cyborg trekked quite some ways from the compound. In fact, they were on the move for almost an hour before there was an abrupt turn into a deserted alley in which the street lights managed not to shine. The alley was located in a part of the city which was not as well off as the section that they lived in.

Sephiroth sprinted into the alley with eyes adjusting quickly to the deeper darkness. That pistol was already in his hand and he did not waste anytime casually twirling it betwixt his fingers. By the time Sephiroth stepped into the alley, he already had it pointing at his temple. His fingers weren't trembling. His entire body seemed at ease and his eyes were closed with the most serene expression on his face. It was an expression that gave Sephiroth pause as he became momentarily captivated.

This was not a man who thought this was a mistake or even a little indecisive. There was no doubt in the cyborg's mind that this would be the day that he died. Sephiroth felt it almost a crime to interrupt this moment of finality.

"Ziggurat—stop," Sephiroth finally willed himself to say.

Just like that, the serenity was lost and perverted into anger, an anger Sephiroth had not known the cyborg possessed. His eyebrows furrowed, his upper lip twitched in vehemence.

"Sephiroth? Why the hell are you even here?" Ziggurat demanded in a dark tone that sent shivers down Sephiroth's back.

"I followed you," Sephiroth replied revealing nothing of his panic.

"It had all played out so perfectly in my mind over and over again," Ziggurat continued as if Sephiroth hadn't spoken at all. The sudden anger had gone from his voice just like that. Instead, it was wistful. "No one would know. No one would miss me and if they did, they would move on soon enough."

"What about the mission or whatever the hell this is that we have to do? It would fail without you."

"No, it wouldn't," he said back. The gun by then was at his side and pointed to the ground. It gave Sephiroth a modicum of comfort. "You and Vegeta are plenty strong enough to do that and neither one of you are stupid enough to fight each other again. And if that isn't the case, then I don't know how I could have stopped it anyway."

"You have no idea what lies ahead—how can you say that?"

In an instant, Ziggurat had the gun placed in its previous position and Sephiroth teeth ground hard behind a closed mouth. "It doesn't matter in the end. I had hoped that I would be alone this night, but your presence makes little difference."

Sephiroth only had to see Ziggurat's hand twitch a hairsbreadth before he whipped out his extensive sword and after a split second decision, he struck Masamune into the gun with a downward stroke just hard enough to veer it backwards from the head. In that same second, the shot had gone off, but the sound was remarkably small and the bullet sailed harmlessly into the opposite wall without even a ricochet.

Masamune was sheathed right before Ziggurat's frustrated eyes were trained on him seething now.

"Why are you going out of your way to stop me?—You of all people?" Ziggurat stepped closer and practically slammed the gun onto his chest with a force that nearly made him stumble back. "Must you control everything? I'll let you do the honors—here take it," he spat.

Sephiroth took a moment before he realized what the other was implying, but he took the gun from the other if only to take it from his grasp. His hand actually trembled as he held something specifically designed to kill more efficiently than a sword and with ease. He'd held guns before, but this one felt more compact and heavy. If he placed his hand into it, it would fit perfectly and if he shot it, there would be no recoil if watching it go off once was any indication—a small, deadly, near silent weapon.

"No," Sephiroth said stolidly and he threw the heavy mass of metal as hard as he could onto the ground.

It did not shatter; it simply evaporated. A strange weapon indeed.

"Explain yourself! Do you really believe everything Veil says to you? The same person who could at this moment be planning our demise as we sit around idly."

"This has nothing to do with Veil," Sephiroth said subtly shaking his head. "I came here to stop you because I…" It was at this moment that Sephiroth realized that he could not possibly say the words which had suddenly leaped into his mind. Still his voice betrayed nothing of his intentions.

He approached the cyborg and instinctively Ziggurat stepped back until his back was against the wall. His mouth was partly open probably to say something of his strange behavior, but before Ziggurat could even speak, Sephiroth took that moment to press his lips up against the cyborg's in the same way Bulma had demonstrated. He felt the utter coldness of his lips, the complete lack of warm breath or saliva and it was unlike anything he ever tasted before. That is until he felt a sharp pang in his abdomen and he was doubled over in startling pain. He let out a pained groan despite himself.

"I get it—you've gone completely insane."

Sephiroth listened to the steps of Ziggurat's retreating form. After he recovered somewhat from that rather solid, point blank hit he caught up to the other easily. Ziggurat only afforded the other a side glance, but remained silent.

"Will you say something?" Sephiroth asked after a few moments of deafening silence punctuated by metallic footfalls.

"There isn't much to say," he said back.

"Did you enjoy it?" Sephiroth asked. He needed to know.

"That is a question better left unanswered—"

"But you _must_ answer it."

"Or what? Will you finally kill me off in your inane search for an answer? How could I enjoy something sprung on me so suddenly? It was more uncomfortably disturbing than anything else."

Sephiroth was instantly deflated at the response, but a thought come to mind. "But were you more prepared for such a thing—"

"I don't know what's gotten into you and we are unfortunately quite far from the house," Ziggurat interrupted the other.

"That doesn't—"

"I don't want to discuss this any longer," the cyborg said with an air of finality.

Sephiroth decided not to push the issue. What exactly had he expected anyway? In fact, now that he was no longer in the heat of the moment, he wondered what had possessed him to do such a thing in the first place. Maybe he had made a mistake—a chilling thought that gave him pause. Was he capable of such mortal things? Maybe he _had_ gone insane.

But that one moment he had spent with the stoic cyborg, a moment in which everything had begun to make sense as if it hadn't in the past—Was that bliss? Had the cyborg not felt the same in the least? How could something like that be one-sided?

"Though I am somewhat relieved that you've spent some time contemplating the things we spoke of before, you'll have to go back to the drawing board on your conclusions," Ziggurat said after they were two-thirds away from the house.

Sephiroth had almost completely forgotten that conversation despite it being a rather enlightening one. He doubted he was anymore closer to understanding the concept of love than he'd ever been. That did not change the fact that he was quite enjoying their little stroll back to the house.

Sephiroth enjoyed their closeness as they walked at the same pace and they were mere inches apart. The constant sound of Ziggurat's feet hitting concrete, the quietness that had settled between them, and the rare look of annoyance which graced the cyborg's face all put Sephiroth into a good mood.

The trip ended too soon in Sephiroth's opinion as they finally stepped back inside again. Ziggurat took a seat in the living room with a weary sigh. Not trusting the other on his own so soon, Sephiroth idled by the sliding door that led to the back porch.

"Ziggurat," Sephiroth said singularly thinking of how he might word his next question.

"Yes," the cyborg said wearily.

Sephiroth took another moment to respond. "What made you even consider suicide?"

"That was how I died in the first place," he said unabashedly.

"Do you not like living?" Sephiroth asked.

"At the time, it was the best choice I could make. I was not strong enough to overcome my adversary nor did I want to join him. That was the last real choice I ever made. When I was brought back to life, it took me a while to rediscover the significance of that fact. I simply want to honor that choice I made so long ago. Never in my wildest dream did I believe I could possess some semblance of free will once again."

"So I have only stopped the inevitable. You will try this again," Sephiroth asked again masking the concern in his voice.

"Not when I know you will be there to stop me each time," he said laying back onto the couch.

The couch reclined and the cyborg decided to lie back even more by pressing the button to do so. Silence once again filled the air and it took a moment for Sephiroth to realize that the other was falling asleep, a fact which caught him by surprise.

"Are you even capable of…"

Sephiroth moved from the door closer to the cyborg and snapped his fingers once in front of him.

"Well, no, if people are being obnoxious," Ziggurat said nearly startling the swordsman.

Sephiroth pulled his hand back. "A new feature courtesy of Bulma. Soon you'll be eating and drinking as well just like the rest of us," he continued with subtle amusement.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I only require rest to naturally re-energize myself as opposed to relying on a strictly mechanical method and that only needs to happen once or twice a month. As far as eating and drinking, neither would be practical functions to retain and would require far more equipment and expertise that Bulma does not possess."

"I see," Sephiroth replied unprepared for such information. "And just think. All that hard work on her part would have been for naught had I not stopped you."

"I did not force her to help me. She insists on it and I do not stop her. I doubt she'd listen if I told her to do otherwise." There was clear weariness in his tone. "When we were first separated from one another, my systems began to deteriorate at a startling pace. I'd never felt anything like it. I thought surely my time had come yet here I am. Someone is always there to 'help' whether it be out of the kindness of their heart or a selfish reason. But…I don't want to bore you to death with my musings."

"I was listening intently," Sephiroth said back.

"Hm, ah yes, because every word I utter now interests you."

"Should it not?"

Ziggurat sighed. "It's getting late."

"So it is," Sephiroth said confused with the statement.

"I'm quite tired. Perhaps this should wait until a better time."

"Perhaps it should," Sephiroth replied finally understanding the other's dismissive tone. "Don't try anything stupid—I have really good hearing."

"No need to worry."

"Hmm…but how do I know you're not lying?"

The question went unanswered as the cyborg seemed to have already fallen asleep seemingly at the drop of a dime. His "breathing" had deepened which was normal for those sleeping, but eventually there was only silence and the cyborg was completely still. Sephiroth tried snapping his finger again, but nothing happened this time.

Breathing was an involuntary activity that Ziggurat simulated on a daily basis. Noting his uncanny stillness now, Sephiroth realized that he did not necessarily have to breathe. His mind was the only thing that made him human aside from his other obvious physical traits. The human mind was not always practical and was easily fooled. Somewhere along the line as the cyborg slept, the ghost autonomous function would cease as there was apparently no longer a need for it.

If that spontaneous kiss was any indication, he lacked the natural warmth of a living person. Sitting there as motionless as a statue, he was reminiscent of a corpse; a fact that was quite ironic.

After watching his form for a moment longer, Sephiroth finally left him to himself. For reasons he did not yet understand, he did not want to leave his side and as he laid quietly on his bed, he wondered why a feeling of loneliness began to envelop him.

* * *

 **Sephiroth awoke to the sound of Ziggurat's voice.** It wasn't nearby and it wasn't particularly loud, but it did sound a bit urgent. Immediately curious, Sephiroth climbed out of bed and down the hall to hear things a bit clearer. He spied Sharon in the living room along with Ziggurat who had been there last night, but was now standing.

"…it was only a dream," Sephiroth heard the last part of Ziggurat's sentence.

He didn't want to risk getting spotted so he simply leaned against the hallway wall to listen to them.

"But it felt so real," Sharon insisted. "Are you sure you're alright? Nothing…bad happened last night, right?"

"Would I be standing here alive and well if that were the case?" he answered her back with a question of his own. His tone reminded Sephiroth of one a teacher might take with a student.

"No," Sharon replied uncertainly as if she was the child being scolded. "But you've been acting weird lately and…"

"Weird in what way?" he asked.

Sharon sighed, "Nevermind, it's hard to explain. I guess I just don't know you as well as I had in the past."

"A lot has happened since then and we have both changed."

"I've stayed the same," Sharon said quietly, "You're the one who's changed."

"I may not remember you completely, but there are some aspects about you that are still clear to me and you exhibit none of those traits."

"How can you even accuse me of such things?" Sharon asked her tone becoming defensive.

"This isn't about who's wrong or right. Clearly these things are subjective. You see yourself one way and I see you another and vice versa."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sharon complained, "I don't remember you speaking in riddles so much."

"And I don't remember having to explain myself so much to you."

"So what are you trying to say?" Sharon asked perplexed.

There was almost a full minute of silence before the cyborg spoke again. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Will you be alright, then?" Sharon pressed.

"I _am_ alright. I'm standing right in front of you," Ziggurat said with not too subtle exasperation.

"Good. Then let's keep it that way," she said back with genuine care.

Sephiroth didn't hear anymore words spoken besides a dissatisfied huff which seemed to come from Sharon.

"Why do you always do that?"

"Sharon…" Ziggurat pleaded with the other. Sephiroth had already become lost as to what was happening.

"I remember a man who cared about others even complete strangers. He was gentle and soft-hearted. But now…" There was a pause in her speech. "Why do you feel so cold?"

"Sharon, I could never live up to your expectations. The one you married is long dead; I only bear his visage."

There was another long pause and Sephiroth strained his ears to hear what was being done at the moment. In the end, he could not really determine it. He heard when Ziggurat gave a quiet but firm "No" and then a few moments later when Sharon started to cry softly.

"…I'll go make breakfast," she said quietly.

"I'm sure Vegeta would appreciate it."

"He always does."

And that was the end of it. No more was said as Sharon exited the room. Sephiroth waited before entering so that it wouldn't seem so obvious that he'd been eavesdropping not that Ziggurat would ever suspect it. The swordsman was quite confident in his ability to remain undetected by everyone except the bloodhound Saiyan.

Ziggurat looked the worse for wear as if rest had not helped in the least last night. He barely acknowledged the other as he entered the room as his head leaned idly onto a fisted hand—he'd sat down again.

"Good morning, cyborg."

It was a strange phrase for Sephiroth to say, but even that didn't get a rise out of the usually observant cyborg.

"Did you rest well?" Sephiroth asked.

"No," Ziggurat finally replied, but left it at that.

Sephiroth could hear Sharon taking out pots and pans for the cooking. It was quite likely that such activities had become habit for her though Sephiroth was usually not still here at the time. He usually left quite early to do as he always did when he was bored and mass killing was frowned upon—partake in some guilty pleasure people watching. It was miraculously time consuming and it at least seemed like he had something to do since he wasn't in the house all the time.

At the moment, Ziggurat wasn't giving him much in the way of conversation with his one-word answers. Perhaps it was a sign that he didn't want to talk, but that for some reason left him dissatisfied and he hated that feeling.

"Considering last night's ordeal, I believe you're faring quite well."

This did get somewhat of a rise out of the cyborg as his eyes finally met his and with an arched eyebrow—the very picture of perplexed. "That almost sounds like a compliment which is odd coming from you. Greeting people in the morning as well? I'm not sure what to make of any of it."

"In lieu of the other thing that happened last night…" Sephiroth reminded the other.

"Ah, yes, I suppose it starts to make some sense. I was actively trying to forget your minor slip in judgement—I certainly didn't need to be reminded."

"Forget?" Sephiroth asked caught off guard by this development.

Ziggurat sighed heavily. "And why do you seem so upset about that? In fact, why are you still here this late in the morning?"

"I see…you don't want to be around me," Sephiroth said turning towards the front door.

"I'm finding it hard to believe that this is some kind of revelation for you. We all know that you're here for less than savory reasons. You've already tried to kill Vegeta and were it not pertinent to your wellbeing not to, you would have done away with all of us by now. Like I said before, I know your type quite well."

Sephiroth was already grabbing for the doorknob his heart beating a mile a minute but he could not figure out why. He opened the door too fast for someone who was supposedly unaffected by others. "You're wrong about one thing, Ziggurat, I respect you immensely and I listen to every word you say," he said in a deceptively calm voice. That did not deter him from slamming the door as he moved through the doorway quickly.

Despite the wall being in the way, he could still hear Ziggurat as he uttered a confused "What?" either to his statement or his departure, he couldn't be sure. Right about now he really wished he could slide his sword into something or some opponent to entertain him. He needed to clear his mind somehow.

* * *

 **Bulma woke up to a sudden loud noise**. She glanced over at Vegeta, but he was sound asleep which only brought a grin to her face—she'd surely worn him out last night and his expression was the picture of contentment. Funny how time changed people. She remembered the days in which she'd never find him asleep in bed because he was already in the gravity room training himself to oblivion whether it be because of the impending doom of the androids or personal enjoyment. In the past couple years, however, he did not train as intently as before proving that he was in fact not a machine. Following a new precedent, he did not rouse until nearly the afternoon. After all that had happened in their lives, the failures the triumphs, this small indulgence did not bother her in the least and she went out of her way not to disturb him as she climbed out of bed.

It wasn't until water was rushing into her face that she was really awake and she was already thinking about the cyborg if there were any modifications that she could possibly make on him or better yet any modifications that he would agree to. She'd already eliminated all the extra unnecessary programs that controlled his mental activities from emotions to how superiors should be addressed. There was a distressingly exhaustive behavioral protocol that Bulma gleefully got rid of. Because of that, his processing powers had nearly doubled. His mind was essentially unshackled. There was enough space now for other better modifications like increasing the efficacy of his self-healing, one of the few original programs that was actually useful. He had other support mechanisms that could increase his strength or ability to defend himself all of which she already supped up to ridiculous levels.

But there were other changes that Bulma knew he would not agree to—he hadn't really agreed to all the increase in performance to begin with, only some of them, but…she'd secretly done the rest. Certainly, he'd be able to tell immediately, but there was no word of complaint from him—Bulma was good at reading between the lines. Maybe she was the only one who knew of his constant dilemma with innately wanting to help others to the best of his abilities and wanting his long life to finally end. The more she increased his performance the less likely it became that he would die in battle and really that was the only way now for him to die, not of old age or disease. His healing programs had become so efficient that it began as soon as he received an injury, took little to no energy to do so, and she'd written in a code that allowed him to also know when that particular injury would fully be eradicated so that he could better plan his next moves. The thing is, all these enhancements could easily be turned off by him as she had given him full control of his body. Bulma had told him it was so if the need arose to preserve energy or if something malfunctioned, he'd be able to solve the issue on his own without hassle, but, in reality, she'd given him the option for peace of mind. He needed to come to the decision himself that he wanted to live and not be forced into it.

Making him appear more human was out of the question. Not only would it have been time consuming and a labor of love on her part, finding the right materials and chemicals would be near impossible. Even if they didn't have those obstacles, however, Bulma suspected his attitude would have remained the same on the issue. On one hand, he seemed not to care much for his appearance and yet on the other he was still embarrassed that she, one who at least appeared to be a young woman, was working on him so intimately. He was full of contradictions, a fact that amused her.

He was easygoing and at times persnickety as old men stuck in their ways usually were. He was pleasant, unknowingly drawing people to him with his wisdom and patience—a trait which made her work so much easier—yet he thought so little of himself. It was clear that he actually enjoyed being around others, but he would often go out of his way to be away from everyone.

Bulma turned off the shower and began to dry herself. Perhaps she'd done all she could for him for the time being. Now he simply had to adjust to the changes. From the looks of things, however, he did not seem to be adjusting well. She was beginning to worry. Was it too much, too fast? Maybe all those emotions he had not been able to feel properly until now was overwhelming him. If that was the case, would he speak to someone about it or simply let it fester until it erupted in some destructive fashion? But surely Ziggurat would not allow for that. Surely he was wise enough to think of other alternative solutions. Surely he knew that he had friends who would listen—herself, of course, but also Maya and even Vegeta.

In complete nakedness, she walked back to her room to throw on some clothes and then proceeded to the living room where she could already smell Sharon's cooking. Sharon. Another subject altogether that Bulma did not feel like spending brainpower on. There was another project which she had thought about for some reason in the throes of passion with Vegeta. In fact, many of the breakthroughs she'd made in science were epiphanies she had during those intense moments—something she would never tell Vegeta lest his ego skyrocketed.

She could build time machines, radars that tracked down dragon balls, ships that could travel easily through space, gravity machines that could withstand the might of Saiyans, surely she could build an interdimensional machine or device that could send them all back to their respective homes, but she needed far more information, more equipment, more everything and she needed the help of Ziggurat. Besides the self-healing program that was probably placed there from the very beginning, the cyborg was also endowed with an immense wealth of knowledge encapsulated on several chips of data. Usually, it would be nothing to transfer such information to a computer and peruse over it herself, but she had no such devices at this point. Ziggurat was the only one who could access it and she'd also taken off the silly limiters they'd placed on it to block certain portions. Bulma suspected it was probably some mass-produced data chips that were placed in all machines and a program was encoded that determined what part of it was accessible by the user—a cost saving method that bypassed having to make separate custom made chips for each type of cyborg. For Bulma, it was a lucky break. She had no doubt that he would agree to help her—they all wanted to go home after all.

Ziggurat was conveniently in the living room when she entered it. She quickly evaluated his appearance. His eyes generally looked haunted and his neutral expression was often closer to despondency than contentment all of which made him appear unapproachable. Today, however, those haunted eyes were also a bit red-rimmed not from crying but exhaustion and Bulma had a feeling that it was more mental than physical. His frown was far more pronounced and gave off the air that he was truly disgusted at this point. Still, she carried on as if not to notice.

"Good morning!" Bulma proclaimed cheerfully.

"Good morning," Ziggurat replied evenly in total contrast to her.

She smiled for good measure. "I've just thought of a really good project that you'd be interested in."

"Bulma, I'm not sure how many more of your modifications I can take," he said wearily.

"No, no, not that, but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. I want to build a machine that can take all of us back home or even just away from here."

Ziggurat sat up a little straighter with this which drew another smile from Bulma. "Is that…even possible?"

"I believe so with your help."

"My help?" he said with a laugh. Bulma secretly patted herself on the back for getting the oft solemn cyborg to laugh out loud. "I'm afraid I'm not nearly as gifted as you are when it comes to engineering."

"Maybe you are. Not with your own mind, but information that was placed there on a few data chips."

Ziggurat's expression still showed confusion.

"You know, the data that allows you to, say, interpret someone's blood pressure or body temperature."

"Those are sensors."

"I know!" Bulma said thinking of a better example, "When you evaluate someone's race or species and you can quickly determine if it's known or unknown."

"Now that you mention it, there is some data that I have access to at specific times. It's simply in response to a program being run. It's not like…a web browser or an encyclopedia that I can use or see at any time."

"Those were the limiters set up so that you don't have direct access to everything—I took those off. If you wanted to, you can look through all the information stored there. You're practically a genius now."

"Not quite. Stored data does not mean I'm cognitively aware nor that I'll understand it if I were to look."

"Just repeat information to me verbatim or write it down—something like that. Also, don't sell yourself so short. I think you'd understand quite a bit if you were actively trying to besides I can tell when someone has a high logical-mathematical intelligence. How do you think it is you've managed to live this long despite programs working against you? —luck?"

"We'll see if your assumptions are right in due time, won't we?"

"So that's a yes then to helping me?"

"Of course. Anything to loosen Veil's grip over us is worth the time and effort."

Bulma was beginning to notice the smell of cooking overtaking the house. It wouldn't be long now before it would summon Vegeta out of nowhere. Then another thought struck her. Where was Sephiroth? He was always absent in the morning and sometimes even all day. As far as she knew, he required food and water to live just like the rest of them yet he regularly skipped meals days at a time unless he was eating elsewhere and hadn't told anyone about it. That would be pretty impossible to do without money, but Bulma knew there were many other ways that he could accomplish such things.

"Have you seen Sephiroth?" Bulma asked casually while her mind was still on the subject.

"He's around as usual. Though he's been acting strange as of late."

Bulma grinned at the irony. "In what way?"

He seemed a little embarrassed as he searched for an answer. "I don't…entirely know, but strange is the best way I know how to explain it."

"Well, nothing seemed different to me last time he joined us for dinner. Not that you would know since you weren't there," she said back reminding him that he hadn't been acting himself lately either. "I don't know too much about Sephiroth, but I don't think he's pure evil like everyone seems to think around here. I'm still alive despite spending quite a long time with him and I would be easy pickings. Being around supportive people who treat him with kindness could mean all the difference. I've been able to speak to him perhaps more than others and what I see is someone very confused and lost. Obviously, something traumatizing probably outside of his control happened to him and he turned down the wrong path for solutions that were likely not there or maybe he felt he had no other choice or maybe it was his way of protecting himself or—

"Maybe he's completely insane," Ziggurat interjected.

"Or that," Bulma conceded. "But why do people even make choices that seem silly to you or I?"

"I see what you're saying," Ziggurat said as the other paused in her thoughts.

"But I haven't finished yet."

"I've heard it before. The lack of a proper foundation. The lack of influence from the right kind of people as we are shaped largely by our environment. Had certain factors been in place perhaps Sephiroth would have made different choices, maybe he'd be a different person."

"Yes, exactly. I couldn't have said it better."

"But that sort of reasoning could be said about most people. It still does not excuse one's actions. It does not make him redeemable—it does not mean that he _is_ a better person as he is clearly not. For most, it is too late to change and trying to change someone who isn't open to it or even if they are it's still a long-shot and in the end silly to bank on."

"And this is your opinion from experience?"

"In my long life, I've never witnessed a person truly change from their core beliefs."

"What if I told you that Vegeta started probably even worse off than Sephiroth? I'd be willing to bet that Vegeta has been responsible for far more deaths than Sephiroth ever will. Aside from the death count, he enjoyed doing it, he enjoyed making others fear him, and he did it with ease. We can all agree that he's come a long way."

"A remarkable exception to the rule, but I could give you countless more examples in which nothing of the sort ever occurred and I believe you could too."

"Listen, I can read people pretty well. I'm just a completely defenseless human and I've survived encounters with my husband even before it was apparent that he could be trusted and now Sephiroth who did not instantly obliterate me. I may not have your vast knowledge of the world, but I can tell if someone can be redeemed. He just needs a shove in the right direction, trust me. There just needs to be one person who he truly respects and listens to and I think we'd all be pleasantly surprised at how much he can change."

Ziggurat's eyes had turned from her and towards the front door. "I suppose one is never too old to learn new things."

"I've always heard the opposite," Bulma said with a grin.

"You only stop learning if you choose not to be open to it. I will take your advice into consideration when next I see Sephiroth."

"But how—wait a minute," Bulma said with crinkled eyebrows, "When you said he'd been acting strange…but why were you so embarrassed before?"

"It seems even I am an open book to you perhaps you'll figure things out all on your own, but I'd rather not say. Strangely enough though he seems to listen to me—I will take advantage of that."

"But don't be too heavy-handed and you can't be overtly manipulative."

"I understand, Bulma," he said wearily, "I've never been those things in the first place."

Bulma realized after he said this that that was likely the truth. For Vegeta, it was Goku who had truly changed his outlook on life and she had simply helped things along. She pondered the similarities of such a situation unfolding right in front of her once again. Goku had a simplistic view of the world, his true intelligence lied in his fighting and that was what Vegeta had respected in the first place—his prowess in combat. Goku led by example and he was so pure of mind and spirit that it was hard for it not to begin rubbing off on others. Whether Vegeta wanted to admit it or not, Goku's mere presence had affected him. Had someone tried to sit down and explain things to Vegeta he would have actively ignored them, but by simply being the one who observed from afar it was Vegeta himself who rationalized things in his mind and changed his very beliefs. Goku would not have been able to bumble through some convincing explanation as to why the other should change, but he could "trick" one into doing it themselves.

But Ziggurat wasn't like Goku not by a long shot though they did seem to have a certain aura about them which encouraged positivity. Goku saw the world simplistically and unburdened by contradictions and Ziggurat saw the world in the opposite fashion. He spoke with eloquence and understanding something that she suspected Sephiroth was drawn to. In fact, Sephiroth seemed to value intelligence over most other things and perhaps that could explain why he'd gotten along so well with her in the first place. If he so chose, Ziggurat could converse with the likes of anyone and he could manipulate them to his will. She had no proof to this assertion, but she did know that if Ziggurat had looked her square in the eyes and calmly stated that pigs could indeed fly she might even consider it for a few moments because one would not expect him to lie. It was difficult to tell if Ziggurat knew such things about himself, but Bulma suspected that he did.

"Alright," Bulma said after she gathered her thoughts. "Let's get started on this as soon as possible—if you don't mind."

"The sooner, the better," he agreed.

Just then Vegeta strolled into the living room which came as no surprise to Bulma. He acknowledged them, but then made a beeline for the kitchen obviously following the scent of cooking food. He'd be Sharon's problem for the time being. Sharon's role was pretty much identical to Bulma's mother Bunny who cooked her little heart out on a fairly constant basis. It was a thought that brought a grin to Bulma's face. Without further ado she began to grill Ziggurat. He would have to close his eyes for full concentration on his part, but he had little trouble accessing before-mentioned data. The more he performed the act, the easier it became, the faster his answers became. He happened to be a fast learner much to her delight.

They almost missed when Lang passed through as well no doubt drawn to the smell of food. Bulma supposed she would have to grab her a plate as well. If no one reminded her though, she might work right through breakfast and lunch. It was a feat she could manage easily on her own, but lately not so much as Ziggurat took it upon himself to remind her.

Some time passed when Lang wandered back into the living room though he always stood just before the couches and never stepped any further inside.

"Have you seen Sephiroth?" Lang asked.

It was question he asked them anytime they were still in the house by this time. Frankly, it was a little annoying. The boy obviously needed something to occupy his time and following Sephiroth around seemed to be his answer.

"You know the deal," Bulma said only affording him a glance, "He leaves really early and never tells anyone where he's going. In fact, you hang out with him more than anything—you'd know better than anyone."

Lang laughed at this. "'Hang out' is too strong a word, but—

He stopped midsentence and Bulma looked up once again to catch him sneaking a glance towards Ziggurat.

"Nevermind," Lang said with a sigh, "I guess it's just another day of tracking him down."

"Sounds tiresome," Ziggurat said finally looking his way. "If exploring the city is really your goal, you'd probably cover more ground doing it on your own."

"On my own? But what would be the fun in that?" Lang asked with a grin.

"To each his own, I suppose," Ziggurat said relenting.

Bulma was sure that Ziggurat must have noticed by now the one-sided attachment Lang had formed with Sephiroth. It made little sense to anyone but Lang. He stood there for a moment, his eyes on Ziggurat once again before sighing and then leaving.

"What was that all about?" Bulma asked after the front door closed.

The cyborg only gave her a shrug and likely gave no more thought to the entire exchange. "Understanding what teens are thinking about all the time is not one of my expertise."

Bulma laughed at this. "I've had to deal with two and they're still largely a mystery."

She soon returned to her bombardment of questions she had for Ziggurat eventually grabbing a notepad to jot down information. All in all, she was looking forward to a very productive day. Her excitement for starting yet another project especially when she knew it would challenge her was hard to contain.


	17. Bright Blue Eyes

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 17: Bright Blue Eyes_

Lang knew Sephiroth to be a loner. He did not seek an audience with anyone and he did not long to be around crowds for any period of time. That also made him quite difficult to befriend. He wasn't an expressive person and kept most things to himself. Lang had taken to spying on him to figure out anything that might make him open up. He would get up in the morning far earlier than he usually would just to have the chance to catch him when he slipped out of the house.

The first few times Lang had managed to do it, Lang followed the tall swordsman down a plethora of streets that Lang had yet to even explore before then. Yet Sephiroth seemed to know where he was going. The odd person out that early on the streets typically stayed out of his way. When he visited shops, Lang would take note, but he began to suspect that Sephiroth was simply curious rather than having a real interest in things. He entered anywhere from flower shops to bookstores. Sometime around noon, he would go to a specific restaurant and eat there. Lang wondered if he was actually paying for it, getting it for free, or for whatever reason really liked that place. He couldn't very well stroll in or ask him upfront, so he was left with unanswered questions.

Afterwards, as had become something of a routine, Sephiroth would find some arbitrary place away from onlookers and begin on a book he must have gotten from one of the bookstores he visited. From the distance Lang was, he could not tell what he was reading which was unfortunate. Anything which could keep the swordsman's attention for apparently three to four hours—sometimes even longer—was probably something he was interested in. What kind of stories did he fancy? And where exactly was he hiding those books once he was finished? Likely he was then returning them before ever going back to the condominium each time. Though that did sound like a roundabout way of dealing with books he was clearly interested in reading.

If he wasn't reading, he was simply resting or what looked like resting. On further inspection, it was more likely that he was meditating and that was highly uninteresting to spy on. Some days, Sephiroth would simply be idling on a street corner and become so still that others who passed by overlooked him. It was clear to Lang that he was watching other passersby, but he could not tell his intent. He stood there in one spot for hours much to Lang's annoyance. Sometimes even for the rest of the day.

But one particular day marked a change in the tall swordsman's behavior and it annoyed Lang like nothing had before. It took Lang a moment to realize it, but Sephiroth was quite literally stalking the cyborg. He did nothing else all day. He ignored shops, meditation, or reading and spent the majority of his time pursuing that one specific person. It had not been just one day either. Lang tried to rationalize it, but as the days wore on, he began to suspect that he found just what Sephiroth was interested in or more accurately who.

Lang could not confront the other about it, then he'd have to admit that he had been spying on him that consistently and that was no way to gain his trust. Instead, he simmered with the knowledge unable to express his concerns to anyone else. He'd placed all his eggs in one basket…and that never ended well. His thoughts began to return to that time when he first arrived in the city and Sephiroth had compared him to a common variety of sword. That was how he felt about him. Why was he so surprised that nothing had changed in that regard?

Only one thing kept him from complete misery: Sephiroth's apparent interest seemed one-sided at best. Ziggurat didn't think highly of the other and he would likely not reciprocate anything and that's if he even noticed Sephiroth's quiet attention. All Lang had on the entire situation was Sephiroth spying on the other.

On that day when he woke up at a normal time in the morning around the same time as Vegeta, he decided he would finally put an end to all this sneaking around and simply tag-along as he'd often did in the past. He'd quit in the first place because he sensed he was getting on the other's nerves, but Lang no longer cared. He left the house in a huff after watching Ziggurat's total obliviousness to Sephiroth's attention.

Sephiroth did have a bit of a pattern in his daily strolls so it was a little easier for Lang to find him.

"Good morning, Sephiroth," Lang said upon his arrival.

Sephiroth was not nearly as receptive to him as on the day he first found him in the city. In fact, he was almost certain that the other was actually upset. His gait was quicker and more tense. His eyebrows were furrowed somewhat and they seemed perpetually in that position.

"Did you want something?" Sephiroth asked abruptly to the other as a response to the other's greeting.

"Well, n-no," Lang stuttered as he was caught off guard.

"Then please, Lang, leave me be for now." He was walking faster now and it was becoming harder to keep up with him.

"D-did you just say…?" Lang stopped himself before he said it. That Sephiroth even knew the word "please" was surprising enough. It was better not to point it out else he might not ever say it again. "Wait," Lang said jogging a little to keep up. "You look…angry about something. What's wrong?"

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks and Lang stopped a moment later catching himself from his forward momentum that threatened to make him fall flat on his face.

"There is nothing wrong," Sephiroth said as if the very idea was impossible to fathom. He was looking at the other intently now and it made Lang involuntary produce a bit more sweat "How good are you with that sword of yours?" Sephiroth asked.

Lang had to step back a bit as he felt as if his personal space was being invaded although Sephiroth had stepped no closer to him.

"Umm…well, definitely not as good as you…"

"Yet I'm sure you have substantial experience. I wouldn't mind crossing blades with another decent swordsman at the moment."

"Me?" Lang said confused. "Oh, no I would make for a pitiful opponent—

"All the more reason to spar. A swordsman should never refer to themselves as 'pitiful'."

"A spar?" Lang asked nervously.

"Not a real fight. Just for sport."

The thought of Sephiroth attacking him head on was a waking nightmare of his even if it wouldn't be a serious duel, real swords would be used and there was always some level of danger when that was the case.

"I-I just don't think it would be a very good idea. Where is this even coming from?"

Sephiroth simply looked at him for another moment. Lang was surprised he hadn't melted away at this point.

"I won't force you," he said curtly before turning on his heels and proceeding down the street.

Lang almost lost the other to the crowd before snapping out of his immobility born out of fear. "Wait!"

This time, Sephiroth did not answer and Lang struggled to keep up with him. Before he knew it, however, the crowd thinned out until people became scarce. Lang wasn't familiar with the route Sephiroth was taking, but soon they were on a lonely stretch of road that quickly turned into a dirt path. The tall swordsman stopped his rapid pace here and Lang slowed to a stop as well.

"Follow me any further and you've just agreed to sparring me. Though, I profess to not understand your need to tag along, perhaps your need is stronger than your fear."

Sephiroth finally turned back to him. Lang felt as if he'd just stepped into a trap. It was a no-brainer to simply decide to leave the other alone. He was obviously in a bad mood and wanted some release from a spar, but Lang remembered the fight between Vegeta and Sephiroth. Both of them had nearly died from the encounter. They were both fierce warriors. Lang couldn't describe himself that way. His strength came from wanting to make sure his world remained safe and alive. He could not summon it arbitrarily and especially not when it was merely him who was trouble.

"How long will you stand there indecisively?" Sephiroth asked him startling the other out of his reverie. "Do you need some other incentive?"

This was his chance! Lang's mind shouted at him. He never imagined himself in this situation; the ball being in his court. "There's something I'd like to know. You have to answer truthfully." Sephiroth's expression didn't change in the least at this.

"Ask me anything and I will answer you truthfully so long as you agree to give me a good spar."

Lang finally conceded with this. His need truly overpowered his fear at that moment. He just hoped he didn't regret it later. "Do you fancy…Ziggurat?"

Sephiroth frowned at this and his eyes seemed to glower at him. Lang almost wanted to turn and run. "I do," he said in a deceptively calm voice. The words seemed to send sparks into the air between them.

Lang could barely rip his sword out before Sephiroth almost within a second unsheathed his katana and struck down hard. His hands went numb after taking the brunt of the attack. Blocking attacks would not be a good idea. His defense would quickly be broken. Before Lang knew it, he was on the defensive blocking and evading as many attacks as he could. He was soon thrown to the ground by the mere force of Sephiroth's strikes.

"I want you to fight me with all your strength. Do not hold back. Don't you dare hold back," Sephiroth demanded in a terrifying voice.

"This is supposed to be a spar," Lang managed to say between breaths.

"I am holding back as much as I'm willing, but I want a good challenge. If you continue to hold back, you won't like my punishment."

Lang climbed back to his feet and moved back into his usual stance. He held his sword in his right hand and his left hand hovering a few inches from the blade. This time, Sephiroth waited for the other to attack. For once, Lang caught his stride and was able to unleash a string of attacks as he flowed easily into each new move. Just as Lang was about to come down with his last attack, Sephiroth easily shoved the other away with the flat of his blade.

"Is that all you have?" Sephiroth asked. "I want more from you. Defend yourself."

Sephiroth was on the offensive again, and Lang was desperately trying to parry his moves. Only one of them needed to break through his defenses and he would be finished spar or no. This was why he didn't want to do this. Lang could see it in his eyes—he was far too emotional to keep his own strength in check.

"I won't repeat myself again," Sephiroth growled as Lang was thrown to the ground.

"Fine," Lang said breathlessly as he leaped back to his feet. "You asked for it."

A fierce fire burned around Lang as he cried out Galea's name. Empowered, he rushed forth with Galea all about him. He could barely interpret his own movements as he struck forth with his fiery blade. His world was red and angry for that brief moment in time as he rapidly struck down his opposition with short, quick strokes ablaze with otherworldly flames. When he was done, it was Sephiroth who was on the ground.

It took a moment for Lang to interpret what happened, but when he did, he was running over to Sephiroth with genuine concern for the other's well-being. "Are you alright?" Lang asked.

Fortunately, Sephiroth was already stirring and had managed to sit up in no time only breathing slightly more than usual. He didn't look the worse for wear. His clothes looked a bit charred and smoke still sizzled from him. It was clear to Lang that the other did not particularly like that question as he looked away from him haughtily. "You would ask your opponent that question even before the fight is over?"

"Sorry, I…"

Sephiroth didn't stand up immediately, but he did return the other's gaze. "But that was unexpected. You don't generally call forth your origin."

"My origin is for real fights, not spars."

Lang actually did want to know if the other was alright, but he had seemed offended by that question. He would have to judge for himself.

"I see," Sephiroth replied simply. He climbed back to his feet slowly and thankfully sheathed his sword. "You've given me an idea. If we are to consider ourselves a team, we must know each other's strengths and weaknesses. Because we fought so seriously before, I know Vegeta's intimately. Perhaps the same can be done with the others."

"Sounds like a good idea…but would everyone agree with it?" Lang replied.

"I don't see why not. They would likely agree wholeheartedly."

Sephiroth appeared calmer now. His expression was neutral again. The anger that he sensed before seemed nonexistent. Lang was glad it was over. He looked to the spot where he'd used his mystic arte and found burnt grass and dirt. He wondered how Sephiroth was even able to stand after such a formidable attack. In fact, it had taken a lot out of him just to perform the move.

"Where are you headed?" Lang finally asked as they proceeded to leaving the clearing.

"No place that would interest you; a bookstore."

"Who knows? Maybe I do like bookstores."

Sephiroth snorted softly at this. "You don't."

"And what makes you so certain," Lang argued back as he walked beside the other.

"I hope you don't mind, but I have read your mind once or twice in the past. Your thoughts flowed in a manner that was indicative of one lacking in formal education. Someone like that would find reading more of a chore than something for enjoyment."

"Well…" Lang began but couldn't finish. He was not at all upset about Sephiroth reading his mind. He was more surprised that Sephiroth had admitted to doing it. It was something he'd long suspected the other capable of doing. For whatever reason, Sephiroth was being far more open these days.

"You don't have to come with me if you don't want to. There are plenty of other places to go here in this city. I've yet to travel through all of it and doubt I ever will. I suspect it would take two to three days to trek the entirety of it."

Lang shrugged at this and followed him nonetheless. He had nothing else planned that day. However, the thought of spending any period of time in a bookstore didn't sound at all exciting. Lang knew the bookstore Sephiroth frequented and he was likely headed there. At least, he'd be close to the condominiums. Maybe he'd return there and bug other people there. Bulma always seemed to be in the midst of doing something, perhaps he could help out. Only…Ziggurat was there and at the moment, he could barely stand to be near him.

Just then he heard a noise that was out of place; a small noise…a "meow", and it sounded weak. Lang was immediately interested and followed the sound. There was an alley that led to a couple dumpsters nearby. He heard the noise again and knew that it came from behind the last one. A small, dirty kitten peered up at him with big blue eyes. The kitten sat upon a crumpled cardboard box that Lang suspected was its home. The kitten mewed again with its tiny voice. Lang bent down on his knee and crept slowly to its position. He wanted to pet it just once. The kitten stared up at his approaching hand. He paused when he thought he was close enough and waited for the kitten to investigate his fingers. The kitten mewed again and slowly investigated the hand before it.

"Geez, can you be any cuter?" Lang said to himself.

A little tongue licked his middle and index finger and Lang decided he could get away with petting it without scaring it away. The kitten moved into his hand as he placed it upon the kitten's head and he ran his hand down the entire length of the creature. The kitten's tail was up and obviously in a good mood.

"What is that thing?" Sephiroth asked startling Lang.

Had he been standing there the whole time? Lang assumed that the other had continued for the bookstore. The kitten stopped its antics with Lang, sat down and stared up at the tall swordsman. Sephiroth stared back. Without any encouragement from Sephiroth, the kitten walked over and rubbed its body against one of Sephiroth's boots.

"It's a kitten—haven't you ever seen one before? I really want to keep it."

"Do what you want," Sephiroth said as the kitten continued to rub against his leg and mew a few times. With this, he turned away and proceeded to walk out of the alley. The tiny kitten tried to keep up, but his long strides proved much faster. Eventually, the kitten pawed back to Lang with its tail raised high.

"Don't take it too hard. He's like that to everyone…well, mostly everyone."

Lang picked up the kitten easily and held it safely in his arms. Carefully, he made the short trek home hoping the others wouldn't make too much fuss about the kitten. He'd never kept a pet before in his life, but he did adore soft things especially the sheep one of the townspeople kept back in his hometown. The kitten's fur was even softer than that in his opinion; he could not resist petting it and this kitten did not hesitate to start purring with little provocation on his part.

* * *

Lang hadn't known how the others would take a kitten being in their midst, but he hadn't expected this. As soon as Bulma saw the kitten, there was a huge to-do about getting it—or "him" come to find out—the proper food and care. She practically dropped everything she was doing to make sure the kitten was taken care of. Ziggurat had been there too unfortunately and the kitten was immediately taken with him. Of course, the kitten was quite friendly, but Lang couldn't help feeling some ownership over the kitten since he'd found him in the first place.

Lang had watched with growing irritation as he seemed to know exactly where to pet the kitten. He climbed on the cyborg's lap wanting more attention and the cyborg easily gave it. Amazing how such a cold, mechanized hand could be so gentle. Surely he was in complete control or else he would not have risked touching the kitten, but it still made Lang feel uneasy. Bulma practically dragged him out of the house and away from the kitten so that they could buy food and other kitty essentials. Bulma successfully distracted him for the time being, but on their return trip, his mind went back to Ziggurat. Surely, the kitten was safe in his hands, but…

The living room was viewable straight away after stepping through the front door. He was immediately presented with a scene of the white kitten curled and dozing in the cyborg's lap. It was a dichotomy between machine and animal—warmth and coldness. The kitten didn't seem to mind the cyborg in the slightest and this did not put Lang into the best of moods. As soon as he had the food out in a shallow bowl, the kitten was at his side once again chomping happily on a mixture of chicken and salmon. Being the one who gave him food would certainly cement the kitten's affection with him.

Sharon was there as well and had apparently played with the kitten while he was gone with Bulma. She was excited about preparing meals for the kitten. Lang had no idea that they ate so much food when they were young. When Lang asked Bulma about how she had so much money on hand, she told him that the contracts that Vegeta was able to successfully finish paid generously. In other words, it was something Lang would definitely look into. Perhaps Sephiroth had done the same.

Of Sephiroth, Lang did not see him until dinner. It was a rarity for Sephiroth to join them and Ziggurat as well. The kitten was there vying attention from them all and it seemed Ziggurat gave the best rubs. Eventually, there was a purring kitten in the cyborg's lap and though this annoyed Lang, he could not say anything against it without seeming incredibly rude. Maya who sat next to Ziggurat took the time to pet him. Clearly, she was quite taken with the kitten. Sephiroth paid little attention to him which for some reason did not surprise Lang at this point

"Something was brought to my attention earlier today," Sephiroth began midway through the meal.

He had a modest helping of the food Sharon made that day and he hardly seemed in a hurry to finish it. One might mistake it as a bit of aversion to her cooking and a grudging need for some sort of sustenance every once in a while. Lang noticed, however, that his eating habits had not changed since the day he met him arbitrarily in that forest. That time felt so long ago…

"It would be advantageous to us all if we knew each other's strengths and weaknesses," Sephiroth said.

"Why? So you can better plan how to finish us off," Vegeta said gruffly. He was already on his third helping.

"Have we not moved passed the distrust stage yet?" Sephiroth asked.

"You're not seriously asking that, are you?" Vegeta retorted.

"Sephiroth," the cyborg said gaining the other's attention easily, "I agree with you."

The table went quiet as if he'd just disclosed to everyone that the world would end in mere seconds. Lang crossed his arms with this seeing everyone's reaction. How much sway did Ziggurat have over everyone? Who was really the leader here?

"Trust or no, we should know at least this information if we plan on being effective in battle. Otherwise, we would simply be working against each other. And surely," Ziggurat said as he looked towards Vegeta, "revealing our capabilities or lack thereof would make us no more vulnerable than we were before."

"Fine," Vegeta said grudgingly, "If Ziggurat thinks it's sensible…Besides, I'm dying to know what you can do."

Lang felt their eyes turned to him as he'd said nothing the whole time. He was looking at Ziggurat now, but his face displayed little, no hidden messages or agendas. Ziggurat was just as stolid as he usually was which made it all the more eerie. Could it be? Was Ziggurat somehow manipulating Sephiroth?

"I think it's a good idea," Lang conceded hoping that he too didn't reveal too much on his face.

"So we just sit around and discuss it?" Vegeta asked with a frown. The idea must have sounded quite boring to him.

"No, I think it would be much easier to feel each other out with some sparing," Sephiroth corrected him.

"That's more like it!" Vegeta said after inhaling his fourth helping.

"I suppose there's no need to drag it out. We should begin at our earliest convenience—

"Now," Ziggurat said. "There's still light outside and quite frankly I am intrigued with your proposition."

It was the first time Lang had ever seen the cyborg gung-ho about combat despite being designed for that very thing. Everyone knew him to be levelheaded and gentle, but there was a subtle glint in his eyes that caught Lang off guard. They were all mostly done with their food anyway. Maybe despite his outward mood, the boredom had gotten to him too.

They hadn't decided on a spot, but Sephiroth did not want to lead them on some long trek to a suitable park. There was in fact, a lot of space behind the building they lived in. The only reason he avoided it was because of its location. Too many eyes would be on them. Windows from other condominiums surrounded them on all sides.

Lang was not looking forward to fighting Vegeta even if it was a spar. Besides that, was Sephiroth recovered enough from earlier to be doing something so extraneous? Per usual, Sephiroth looked none the worse for wear and, of course, asking him was out of the question. The real question was: who would be first? That didn't go unanswered for very long, however.

Sephiroth and Ziggurat were soon facing off against each other. It happened organically. A look passed between them and they wasted no time separating from the group and standing apart at a good distance. Lang realized something at this moment as he supposed Vegeta had as well: they'd never seen Ziggurat fight someone else at least not in clear view. Judging from the amount of effort associated with the one between Vegeta and Sephiroth, it was ironic that Sephiroth should be Ziggurat's first opponent.

Ziggurat had his arms raised in preparation for battle. His gloved hand was fisted and his mechanical hand was opened as if awaiting to hold something. Sephiroth unsheathed his blade and held his katana with both hands. He didn't waste any time attacking with his blade. Lang remembered that sword stroke as the one he used on him earlier that day and he could barely defend against it. Ziggurat didn't even have a blade to block it. Despite himself, Lang's eyes widened in fear as he quickly pictured a demolished Ziggurat, but the unthinkable happened. The katana was caught easily with his mechanical hand. There was a soft ping and the entire attack was stopped in a snap. The rest happened so quickly that Lang's eyes could barely follow. The blade was ripped from Sephiroth's gripping hands. All he heard was a startled yelp from the tall swordsman and then a thud as Ziggurat took immediate advantage of the surprise and smashed his fisted hand into the other's guts. Sephiroth fell to the ground helplessly.

That they were all in shock was an understatement. Ziggurat released the sword from his grip and walked to Sephiroth's now curled form.

"Disarmed and knocked to the ground—I would call it quits if I were you," the cyborg said plainly.

Sephiroth had far more trouble sitting up this time than from Lang's Mystic Arte. Unlike before, a tiny trail of blood crawled from the side of his mouth. That punch must have held quite a bit of force behind it.

"That was…not what I expected," Sephiroth said slowly, "…but I do believe you're right."

Ziggurat held his hand out to the other to help him up and to Lang's surprise he accepted it. Lang knew Sephiroth to be quite good at masking his pain, but the act seemed too much for him to even attempt as he held himself gingerly. It worried Lang greatly. It stood to reason that Ziggurat would now face the next person as he was the victor of that round, but Lang could not bring himself to volunteer.

Thankfully, Vegeta was all too eager to fill in that honor.

"Careful," Sephiroth said still a little winded. "He hits harder than you."

"Hmph, is _that_ right," Vegeta said with cockiness in his tone. "Harder than a Saiyan? I'd like to see the day." Then he looked towards Ziggurat. "Are you ready for a real challenge?"

Ziggurat seemed to be a full battle mode as Vegeta garnered no response from the cyborg. His stance had changed too and it seemed eerily similar to Vegeta's. This did not go unnoticed by the Saiyan.

"Hm? Think you can best me at my own technique?" Vegeta asked with some mirth.

"Watch the enemy closely, and react quickly!" Ziggurat bit out before engaging the other instantly.

To be fair, Vegeta seemed ready to fight, but judging from the last fight, Ziggurat didn't seem the type to attack first. Then again, Sephiroth was always quick to the draw. Vegeta took a few initial hits, but shook them off and was quickly trying to regain his footing. Surprisingly enough, the cyborg's footwork wasn't half-bad. He was capable of some decent agility. Vegeta and Ziggurat were now trading blows, but it seemed like Ziggurat's hits were doing some real damage to the other. While Vegeta was faster and he was able to land much more attacks, the cyborg seemed largely unaffected.

Lang glanced over at Sephiroth who was now watching intently—the same kind of intensity Lang had seen him give to those books he read so ardently. Vegeta had already lasted much longer than the swordsman, but for some reason, Ziggurat was using a different tactic with Vegeta. It made sense, however, since the cyborg did not have a sword to fight on equal terms with Sephiroth. Lang turned his eyes back to the fight. Their movements were just beginning to become blurry to him. Were they increasing in speed as well?

The pace changed abruptly when Ziggurat successfully shoved Vegeta to the ground with his shoulder—a move that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"How long will you last, Vegeta?" Ziggurat asked though not in a mocking manner. "You are a living, breathing creature who requires untold amounts of sustenance to keep up your strength. I am a cyborg who requires a recharge every once in a while—I can do this all day. The moment you slow down by even a millisecond, I will take you down soundly."

"If you think I'm giving up, you're sadly mistaken!" Vegeta shouted.

"I'm sure you must have noticed already. Your attacks do nothing to me while I have already drawn blood. Your defeat is imminent."

Vegeta gritted his teeth at this. "We'll see about that!"

Vegeta was very passionate about fighting. It was a trait that must have worked out for him in the past, but against Ziggurat's clear advantage, he could do nothing. It didn't take too much more longer before Ziggurat was able to ram Vegeta's face into his knee and then crash his devastating punch into his guts to send him sprawling just like Sephiroth.

Vegeta scrambled back to his feet, however, but he was fooling no one. Eating those hits had taken quite a bit out of him. Either he had a higher pain threshold than Sephiroth or Ziggurat had been holding back. Vegeta charged him again with what seemed like more gusto, but Ziggurat deflected an attack and punched him squarely in the face and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Yet Vegeta was a glutton for punishment and charged him once again only for his attempt to end like the last. On the fourth attempt as Vegeta managed to climb back, Ziggurat crossed his arms.

"I admire your tenacity, but anything further would defeat the purpose of a spar," Ziggurat said evenly.

At first, Vegeta looked at the other angrily, but then saw the wisdom in the other's words. "Hmph, you've been holding back all this time."

"You and Sephiroth are at a disadvantage here. Both of you are capable of an impressive amount of power, but you cannot tap into that energy."

"And let me guess; you don't have that problem."

"Exactly," Ziggurat replied. "In fact, Bulma has enhanced all of my capabilities."

Vegeta conceded defeat thereafter and now Lang would be Ziggurat's next victim. Lang wondered why he should even bother. Was this even about figuring out each other's strengths and weaknesses or getting beat down by the cyborg? Lang took Vegeta's place and unsheathed his blade without hesitation. Perhaps he'd be able to take out some of his frustration over the cyborg if only a little. He would at least get the first hit in before Ziggurat finished him off. He noticed Ziggurat didn't even bother getting into a stance at all which further irritated Lang.

Lang ran forth deciding that he would put his full strength behind his first sword swipe. He pretended to be aiming for the front, but at the last minute he struck to the side. Then he felt a jarring pain in his hand and had no choice but to release the blade. It was like hitting his blade up against a solid rock.

"Geez!" Lang shouted surprised, "What are you made out of?"

Lang saw the shadow of a grin on his face and that ticked him off. Ziggurat stepped backwards to allow Lang access to his sword. It was a kindness that felt more like belittlement, but Lang grabbed his sword once again and gave the other no breathing room as he attacked him once again. This time he was ready for the impact and he attacked in succession rapidly. He felt he'd attacked every inch of the cyborg before he realized that Ziggurat stood like a mountain unaffected by his sword. Then his blade was stopped when Ziggurat calmly caught it between his palms. Lang tried to yank his sword back, but it proved an impossible task.

"Take a look at your blade," Ziggurat said as he released his hold and ran a metal finger down the once sharpened side of the blade.

The edge was riddled with cracks and Lang had just now noticed it. "What did you do?"

"If you keep attacking me like this, you'll soon be lacking a decent sword. I am composed mostly of the hardest metal from my world."

Lang sheathed his sword. "I don't need my sword to attack you."

Now was the time to bring forth Galea. A fiery, demonic looking spirit flew from the ground. Lang saw the cyborg step back in surprise which did wonders for his confidence. Maybe he would be the one to best the combat cyborg. Galea had increased its size to colossal proportions. No matter what Ziggurat did, he would have to take the attacks head on as the fire balls would be locked on his position. Lang had to step back as well as four successive fireballs flew from Galea's fists. The last one was the largest one as the red spirit pulled his arm back further. The ground was aflame now and even Vegeta and Sephiroth had to move out of the way. The attack was focused on Ziggurat, however, he knew—the surrounding area would be fine.

The air became thick with dirt and debris. Lang wondered if he'd gone too far. There was no movement within. It took a good minute for it to dissipate to a good degree, but eventually Lang saw Ziggurat's silhouette.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Lang shouted.

Lang heard the cyborg's heavy footsteps. At the very least, he could still move about. Then Lang saw the flashes of spark around his form. Had he been damaged finally? Ziggurat walked forward until he could be seen easily through the dusty air. There was something about the sparks that made Lang a bit apprehensive. His expression was unreadable.

"I'm fine," Ziggurat responded. "Your Galea was quite fierce."

"But…how did you…?" Lang took a good look at the cyborg and realized that he was completely unscathed. There were still the sparks, but it was as if he'd not taken on his origin's most powerful attack. It was a terrifying revelation.

"As far as lightening and fired based attacks go, I have a natural defense against them."

There was a bit of glow to the cyborg now, but soon it eased off along with the arbitrary sparks of lightening.

"Your origin is clearly fire based and your sword cannot hurt me. Do you admit defeat?"

Lang stared in bewilderment as his mind went over the new information. "Y-yes, I suppose I have no choice."

Lang went the way of the other two and was utterly defeated by Ziggurat's might. By this time, Sephiroth and Vegeta had recovered from their defeat, but neither were particularly upset about this. To be defeated by Ziggurat was nothing to fume over it seemed. Ziggurat did not fight for glory or bragging rights. It was clearly out of necessity and nothing more. There was nothing personal about it and Ziggurat did not bother with rubbing it anyone's face.

"So your abilities haven't been affected by this world," Sephiroth said thoughtfully, "I wonder why that is if they can be destructive. I've seen you conjure guns out of thin air and I'm sure you didn't get the chance to use the full extent of your attacks."

"Wait," Vegeta said suddenly, garnering their attention. "Yes, that makes sense. We are in Angela's domain. Those who are pure of heart are not punished."

"Angela's domain? Where are you getting such information?" Sephiroth asked.

"I suppose I'd have to mention it at some point: I had a brush with death after we were separated. Sharon can tell you the details. According to her, there was a being named Angela who was responsible for my quick recovery. Ever since then, she has come to me in dreams claiming to be able to grant any wish I might have. But you see, there is a cost to everything and often a steep one I'm not willing to pay. As to why I feel so comfortable leaving the gates of the city, I asked for that knowledge and this she gave to me freely. I don't fully understand everything myself, but certain…words or questions bring forth something like recollections of things she must have told me before likely when I was unconscious."

"A farfetched story if I've ever heard one," Sephiroth said.

"Take it or leave it," Vegeta said disinterested in trying to convince the other. "Beings that oversee lands isn't so far-fetched. My own world has something similar. We are in Angela's domain. Periodically, she rearranges the landscape in a set pattern so that she can exact control over her subjects through the use of Seers. Only Seers are privy to this design and she can control who leaves and enters certain locations. Angela controls many aspects of her domain, but it would be exhausting to go into detail. The one rule which remains constant over all parts of her domain is that she favors those of a pure heart."

"So you're saying Ziggurat is more powerful because of that?" Lang asked incredulously. "And what the heck does purehearted mean?"

"Regardless of the reasons, we have learned quite a bit today," Ziggurat said. "Things that I have suspected have been proven. If there are any further questions, it would likely be easier to simply ask as opposed to demonstration."

Lang realized that he had not had a match against Vegeta, but he was definitely not about to bring it up. He wondered if Ziggurat wanted to bring the sparring to a close for that reason or if he had actually forgotten about it. He looked at Ziggurat looking for some kind of confirmation, but the cyborg hardly paid him any attention. Then again, Sephiroth was already engaging him in conversation along with Vegeta. Lang supposed he should have been paying attention, but it all began to sound like a "grown up" conversation. Despite the fact that he would have been considered an adult in his world, he felt like a child amongst those so much older. He wanted to excuse himself, but he knew that would look bad on his part. Instead, he struggled to listen and follow while wishing he could play around with the kitten he'd just brought home.

Near the end of their group discussion, Lang caught Ziggurat watching him. His eyes were unfathomable, but Lang felt as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He said nothing to him and nothing to bring attention to the fact that Lang was practically zoning out. Ziggurat right then and there suggested that they should pick this up at some other time as it was getting late. Lang was overjoyed with such developments.

It was worth noting the sleeping arrangements in the condominium. Originally, Lang suspected the place was only supposed to house four people, but then Maya, Sharon, and Bulma had tagged along. Bulma always slept with Vegeta so she automatically had a bed to sleep in. Ziggurat didn't need a bed especially after Bulma no longer needed him to remain immobile for long periods of time. Lang was sure he'd offered his room to Sharon because nowadays he would find Sharon sleeping in the room instead of Ziggurat. Sephiroth and Lang slept in their own rooms. That left Maya. There was also a spacious, and furnished sunroom attached to the condo and Maya simply adored it in there. Already, she had several potted plants growing about the place. She preferred to sleep on the ground instead of a bed or a couch.

Before going to bed that night, Lang decided to make the kitten's home primarily in the sunroom where it was easier to get a view of the outside world—he knew cats to be creatures who liked looking outside and he trusted Maya of all people with animals. Finally, he was allowed a few hours with the kitten to himself as he noticed the others went to bed much earlier than him.

He copied Ziggurat's petting techniques and the kitten seemed to respond well to him. "Suppose I should give you a name soon…" he sighed to himself. "Let me sleep on it, alright? I really suck at naming things." He held the kitten in his arm now. "One day, kitty…one day I'll make it out of this hellhole…but then, I suppose I don't have much to return to. A boring life."

The kitten meowed.

"I know, I shouldn't be complaining," Lang continued as he scratched the kitten's ears. "Better boring than constant turmoil…and he won't be there either. Sephiroth would want to return to his own world. Everyone will want to return to their own world. Vegeta, he has a family. Sephiroth? I don't know. Maybe I could convince him to return with me…I'll just have to wait and see."


	18. Possibilities

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 18: Possibilities_

"…Lang? You still there?" Maya asked when she found herself waking up again after a short nap.

Lang had come in to play with the kitten that night and he'd stayed longer than she anticipated. She was glad she'd gotten no response back. She sat up slowly from the couch. It had been an interesting end to the day. The sudden departure of the men for some sparring was a bit surprising especially considering that Ziggurat had been involved with it. True, she'd seen him in action, but him voluntarily engaging in combat seemed…uncanny. Or maybe she was looking too far into it. The other two women: Bulma and Sharon had gotten a front row seat to it all including her. They'd sat in the sunroom together with a clear view. It was there they decided that they'd have a "girl's night" in the sunroom, though they weren't specific on the time only that everyone else besides them would have to be asleep.

Maya crept out into the living room only to find Ziggurat there sitting on the couch with a book in hand. In the other he had a highlighter and he was steadily using it on the book. It had been awhile since she'd spoken with the cyborg one on one and she found she missed it.

"What are you doing?" Maya asked.

"Oh, this?" he said indicating the book by lifting it up a little higher. "Just an old word search book. I used to do them once upon a time…"

"Word search?" Maya asked, but this time puzzled.

"It'll be easier to show you than to explain."

Maya took this as an invitation to sit down next to him. Next he was handing her the book.

"See how the words corresponds in this area of letters? Diagonal, vertical, or horizontal. Want to try it?"

"Hmm…seems easy enough," Maya said as she took the highlighter and book in hand.

However, finding her first word turned out being a monumental task.

"Just take your time," Ziggurat said calmly, "Look at each letter one at a time."

"For each word?" she asked incredulously. "For each letter of each word?"

"Just look for the first letter in the word. Start from there."

Maya looked again this time a lot slower than before—painfully slow. "I found one!" Though her exhaustion in the entire task dampened her enthusiasm as she crossed one of the many, many words on the list. "This looks really difficult—I don't know how you do it. Here." She said handing everything back to him.

When it was in his hands again, his highlighter began sliding across the page, but this time at a faster pace than last time. "Sorry," he said as he noticed her gawking, "I noticed them while you were searching."

"That's nothing to apologize for," she said with a sigh, "You make it look easy. You must be some kind of genius."

"You flatter me. If you do enough word searches it becomes simpler like all things. It passes the time."

"I knew it," Maya said sitting back on the couch. "You're bored as hell."

"I'd be even more so had I not found this. As for today with the sparring, I was at an even higher advantage than they realized. When you're awake for so long, you have more times to think on many things and one of my pastimes is thinking up good battle strategies. I thought of a plethora of ways to defeat them one by one in many different scenarios. I was glad to see that my thoughts weren't completely misguided."

"Even about Lang? You were prepared for that?"

"I've seen his origin before. It looked…fire based. However, everything else I knew about it was pure conjecture. Maybe it was something like your magic, maybe I couldn't defend against it because it was different from actual fire. There was only one way to find out."

"It was a little scary to watch, you know. No one takes on Lang's origin head-on and survives…"

"Sorry if I scared you," Ziggurat said glancing at her, "And perhaps it was stupid of me to risk doing something like that. I suppose," he said with a sigh, "Not fearing death makes one all the more reckless."

"It does," Maya said as she pulled her legs up against her chest. "Lang and I—we're the same."

"Hm?" Ziggurat questioned in a casual tone when she didn't continue as if he was too occupied with his puzzle, but Maya doubted that was the case. She knew he was paying close attention.

"We're both Mystics, beings who possess two spirits. Lang has a powerful fire origin. Out of all the Mystics, he's the second strongest and a man named Avalon possessed the Supreme origin. Both of them are Star Shapers meaning they had the ability to control the forces of nature back in our home world—they were born from the Source Forge. Without Lang, our world would have been doomed because Avalon was as evil as they come and he was…very powerful."

"I see. A hero in his own right."

Maya noticed the other start on a new puzzle. "He almost died trying to summon Galea for the first time, but after that, well, let's just say I was glad to be on his team and not the other way around."

"You've known him for a long time then. I had no idea."

"I guess not. We haven't talked much since he got here. He has other things on his mind."

"Or more like people. Or better yet a person."

"You've noticed too?" She noticed a small nod from the other in response. "We'd gone on a journey together and we were close then. Afterwards, well we grew apart. We lived so far away from each other. He never visited me and…I never visited him."

They grew quiet for a while before Ziggurat spoke again. "You mentioned you were a Mystic as well."

"My origin doesn't attack like Lang. Her name is Rivea and she is a healer."

"Like you?"

"No. I was…kinda putting on a show before. It's Rivea who does all the healing. I didn't want to scare you so I kept her invisible as I used her power. My own magic…can only hurt people, same as it hurt Voyager…"

"Voyager and other beings like him are virtually indestructible. I've never seen anything work so effectively against him. Remind me not to make you angry."

Maya smiled at that. "I doubt that's even possible. And anyway, I can't use it here. The only reason I was allowed before…well, I sort of prayed for it and a woman's voice said she would allow me to use it just once. I didn't quite understand it myself, but thankfully I was able to use it."

She listened to the highlighter slide across the page and then a flip of a page. He'd finished that one as well. Even if she had more experience with word searches, she doubted she'd be able to do them as quickly and certainly not be able to carry on a conversation at the same time.

"Perhaps there may be something to what Vegeta said earlier. He mentioned a goddess named Angela who apparently oversees this part of the world. She controls what powers can be used. Strange that you cannot access yours fully—you seem to fit the criteria."

"Criteria?" Maya questioned.

"According to Vegeta, one must be pure of heart to avoid any restrictions on their abilities destructive or not."

"Oh, I'm not pure hearted at all.

"You say that with such certainty."

"I'm not."

"Hm, well, I doubt this Angela is all-knowing. She cannot judge a person on their thoughts, emotions, even intentions—she likely only sees the surface."

"You're too kind—maybe too kind—to denounce the validity of a goddess for the likes of me. Let me guess, you have full access to your abilities."

Ziggurat didn't answer immediately and before he could Bulma walked in.

"Alright, chop, chop Maya," Bulma said with a smile. "Time for some 'girls only' fun."

Sharon also appeared from the hallway with her arms placed behind her back. Maya sensed a shy energy coming from her. It wasn't as if they hung out very often. In fact, Maya doubted anyone actually hung out with Sharon. Maya wasn't altogether fond of her, but Ziggurat wasn't upset with her and she'd been quite useful around the house—exceedingly so. Perhaps there was some hope for her. Maya glanced over at Ziggurat who had an amused look on his face—a rare sight to see.

"I think I'll take my leave," Ziggurat said as he stood up.

"Oh, you don't have to vacate the living room," Maya said in slight surprise with his abrupt departure. "Maybe you could even—

"The bedroom will be quieter," he interrupted her as he started his way across the living room.

"Leave the old man to his puzzles," Bulma said teasingly.

Ziggurat gave them a brief wave before leaving altogether.

"You didn't have to be so rude," Maya argued.

"Oh please, he knew I was only joking," she said with hands on her hips. "Besides, it sounded like you wanted to invite him—that would definitely defeat the purpose of a girl's night."

"Yeah, I guess…" Maya replied with a sigh.

"Hey, that's no way to start the night. And I get it, he's really easy to talk to—I hang out with him all the time—and he's the person you can probably trust with your deepest, darkest secret and not worry about him telling anyone else, but I _really_ wanted to hang out with just you two tonight."

The three of them moved into the sunroom and closed the door. Maya and Sharon claimed the floor, Bulma sat primly on a long couch. For a moment, they were all quiet. It seemed as if no one had anything to say. It was Bulma who broke the silence.

"We're the odd ones out, you know," she said. "Vegeta told me everything that's happened to him since he got here—in excruciating detail. It was just the four of them. And it looks like we all got here around the same time. A woman named Veil brought them all here for a specific purpose and it sounded time sensitive, yet she sent them here and hasn't told them to do anything further. From what Vegeta said, she had nothing to do with us. None of it makes sense, in my opinion."

"Yeah? I've reached that conclusion too," Maya said. "I don't have any useful ideas about how to get us out of here."

"I do," Bulma said singularly.

"I see you're dialing up the suspense," Maya said with a grin. "Just tell us already."

"Well, it's not a big secret. For the past few days, I've been developing the plans for a teleportation machine that will take us back to, at the very least, Ziggurat's universe. I've had to get a lot of information from him, it's the only source I have at the moment. I've made a lot of headway as well and I've been bouncing ideas off of him, but…I'm a bit stumped now…"

"Wait a minute, don't tell me you brought us here to bounce ideas off of. I'll have no idea what you're talking about. I'm still fascinated with that contraption called a refrigerator in there."

"No, no," Bulma said shaking her head. "I just need some inspiration is all. Telling me a good story usually helps. My brain is kind of weird like that—a phrase or an idea is all it might take."

Maya thought for a moment. "How about I tell you about my hometown?"

"A teleportation machine that takes us back to the universe Ziggurat is from?—that doesn't sound like a good idea," Sharon said finally speaking up. "How would you figure out how to calibrate it for all of us?"

"I'd cross that bridge when I get there. I mean, they're advanced enough to have cyborgs—they have to have internet there. I'd figure something out. But anywhere is better than here."

"Is it?" Sharon asked. "If Veil brought them here, what's to stop her from doing it again?"

Bulma sighed at this. "That's…a valid point—

"I don't see you coming up with any alternative plans," Maya said with a frown.

"No, no, it's alright," Bulma said, "She's right. Even if I somehow figured out how to bring everyone back, Veil could do it all again. The thing is, however, I'll be able to do the same thing over and over again too, right? It's a stalemate. Hopefully, she'd be smart enough to realize that without sending us all on a wild goose chase."

"She could just get rid of you and the machine," Sharon continued.

"Vegeta wouldn't allow that."

"From what I can see, Veil is more than capable of taking him out of the equation long enough for that to not matter," Sharon replied.

"That's…also true," Bulma said with a nod. "I'm ready to take that risk. I'm hoping Veil isn't someone who would kill someone in cold blood like that. She doesn't seem to like getting her hands dirty…"

"That's a lot of assumptions," Sharon stated plainly.

"So what are you saying, Sharon?—We should just abandon the whole idea?" Maya asked after calming her growing irritation.

"No. I just want to make sure everyone knows the risks."

"Don't worry, Sharon, I do."

"Alright," Sharon said relenting, "So what kind of story do you want to hear?"

Maya glanced over at Sharon who was now turned to her side, her form slightly curled and turned away from her.

"Something spicy," Bulma said, "So details about your hometown is out—no offense. I'm sure it's a great place."

"It is pretty boring there. Nothing exciting ever happens. Being here—it's the most fun I've had in a long time," Maya said back.

"Well, hopefully not too boring. I was thinking, we're all adults here, right? Mature and of the female variety. I want to know the best kiss you've ever gotten from someone or if you're feeling brave, the best sex."

"Still not a good topic," Maya said at once. "I don't have any good stories."

"What?" Bulma gawked. "A cute girl like you?"

Maya sighed. "I told you my hometown is not exactly…exciting. But sometimes it feels like the rest of the world is included. We saved it from impending doom only to come back to a lackluster life. The menfolk aren't exactly…fun or assertive. At least, I'm not interested. I haven't found anyone in particular."

"Maybe you need to give people a try—get to know them. Go on a date, see where it takes you," Bulma said.

"I've only been kissed once," Maya said, "And that was with someone you might know—Lang."

"What? Our Lang? The kid who follows Sephiroth around like a puppy dog?"

"Yep, the very same," Maya said with a sigh.

"Care to give us the details?" Sharon asked. "Even if it wasn't earthshattering—it was your first one, right?"

"Fine," Maya said closing her eyes. "You know we saved the world together—me, him, and our other friends. I did have a crush on him for a very long time. I was shy, he was shy—starting a relationship was difficult. Our group split up after the long journey and I didn't see him again for months. I left my hometown and travelled on my own. I was strong enough to defend myself by then. I went to the battle arena and won a few tournaments. That was when I ran into him—he was doing the same thing as me, but in a different tournament. Like I said, I had a crush on him, and he was just standing there all sweaty and exhausted from the day's toils—he was gorgeous. I knew he wouldn't make the first move and I was tired of waiting so I moved towards him and he didn't move away.

"We were supposed to say something then, you know. 'Hey, haven't seen you in a while' or 'You look beautiful' or something like that. Nothing was said. We just stood there looking at each other. I must have surprised him. The thing is—I kissed him and not the other way around. I couldn't be sure if he was interested, but I was tired of waiting around. I was just tired in general and I just wanted to get it over with.

"I don't have anything to compare it to, but I didn't feel anything. He barely responded. He didn't even put his arms around me. At that very moment, I no longer had a crush on him. It was over. He blew it. Then I just ran and ran out the entire place.

"But he chased me, to my utter surprise. He apologized, said he had no experience with women, and that he hadn't the slightest clue where to start. That just made me so…angry. Neither did I, but you could have visited me. You could have said something. You could have told me what's on your mind. Besides, to put it frankly. After that awful kiss, I really didn't want to explore any further. Then we parted ways. We haven't seen each other in a long time. If it weren't for being brought here like this, I doubt I would have laid eyes on him again."

"That's really quite depressing," Sharon said, "The only boy you liked didn't turn out at all how you thought."

"Oh, you can do much better than Lang," Bulma said, "You deserve someone better than that."

"Preferably one with a backbone," Maya laughed out.

"Yeah…he does seem to be lacking there," Sharon agreed, "But he's a nice guy at least."

"At least," Bulma said.

"Oh hush, we all know you like the bad boys," Maya said, "You have a way with them, I think. Sephiroth even called you his friend—which still boggles my mind."

"I really can't argue with you there," Bulma conceded. "But what kind of guy do you like?"

"I mean, I do want someone who's nice—not just to me, but to other people as well. Someone who would take the time to understand me, someone who has no problem speaking their minds, and someone with…a capacity to love so big that it would consume me."

"You're talking about Ziggurat, aren't you," Sharon said. She was still turned from Maya.

"N-no," Maya said startled, "He's a cyborg and—"

"It's alright," Sharon said softly, "He clearly doesn't want me anymore. But unlike you, I had the privilege of knowing him when he was just a human. I'll tell you my story if that's alright with you."

Words became suddenly too difficult to say as her mind thought of what it might be like if he wasn't some weird hybrid of a machine and human—he'd be perfect, wouldn't he?

"I think we're all interested to hear," Bulma said thankfully breaking the growing silence.

"The thing about Jan was that you had to get him in the right mood. It had to be the right place and the right time. He would never show affection in front of prying eyes—he likes doing things behind closed doors. I mean, that makes sense, but it was also about the position he held in society. He always had to keep up a professional appearance, a task that usually proves exhausting to most, but to him it was effortless. That was his natural demeanor. We weren't going to spontaneously come together in his office or in mine for that matter. No nondescript closets, not even while on a date.

"I was starting to think he abhorred affection. He could be so aloof at times. It felt like we were really good friends instead of lovers. I had a child as well so when we were at my place, nothing of interest would ever happen. Then one day we were at his place. We were finally completely alone—away from my son, away from his subordinates and the general public. I saw a different side to him, a side that only I have ever seen as he'd already told me that he was a virgin and had had no prior experience in anything remotely sexual. I was a little worried since he was near thirty having not tried even once.

"It was the most beautiful night of my life. I was finally able to make love to the man I'd been trying to do since the moment we met. He was a natural. I told him I would teach him, but he got the hang of things real quick. The man was hard without much enticements from me. He wore me out all night. I didn't know it was possible to orgasm twice in one session…He was so tender and soft. I could tell he loved every inch of me.

"Believe it or not. That only happened two more times. He was always busy. I know he made an effort to come home every night, but sometimes he didn't and when he did, he was exhausted. I asked him why it was he'd waited so long. He told me that emotionally he had not been ready. It wasn't that he never dated before, it was that none of his relationships lasted long enough—he would end it before things became too serious. He was constantly worried about his mother who had already attempted suicide twice. He'd visited her often. Tried to make her happy. She still died, however, when she was finally successful with her attempts. All of that had taken a lot out of him, that and his job and all the extraneous training one must go through." Sharon sighed and then turned onto her back copying Maya position.

"He was magnificent. Made me forget about all the pain I felt from losing my first husband. The thing with Jan was that sex wasn't a means to an end or even a release. He wanted to know—no, he needed to know me and connect on some deeper level before he even considered doing anything further. That's what he truly craves—an emotional attachment, a deep, meaningful connection that can't be broken. 'Tell me about yourself', he would ask me and he would listen and listen and listen. When he knew me and I likewise, then and only then did he make love to me.

"After all that, after spending all those months together with him even getting married, I betrayed him. I was so scared and so stupid…I didn't think about it until now, how much that must have hurt. As cautious as he was trusting people…as fragile as I knew his heart to be. It shined in the darkest of places yet it could shatter with the slightest touch. He knew this and habitually kept people at a distance so that he could protect himself, so that he could still function somehow. And I crushed it into a million pieces.

"Yet he's barely raised his voice at me. He's even…he's even forgiven me. And I made him that way. Now no woman would ever desire him."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Bulma said interrupting Sharon. "There are all types of women out there even ones who desire a sexless marriage. Just like there are those obsessed with it, there are those who want nothing to do with it."

"I've never heard of such a woman," Sharon said back.

"Well, maybe you don't know as much as you think about the world."

"Maybe I don't," Sharon conceded, "I hope my story inspired you somewhat—I'm all out of them."

"Somewhat," Bulma admitted.

"Really?" Maya asked curiously.

Maya wondered about the woman Ziggurat had mentioned he knew from his world. He hadn't said too much about her so it was hard to guess his relationship with her, but surely it was amicable. Maybe it was something more…

"Hey," Bulma said interrupting Maya's thoughts, "Is your world really that boring?"

Maya sighed, "Well, I do like to build snowmen every once in a while in my hometown. Other than that…"

"Listen, when I make this machine, you don't have to go back to your world," Bulma said, "You can go wherever you want to. In fact, anyone can. Who says we all have to return to our respective universes? And, let me point out, not many people have a choice in the matter. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity…maybe more if we stay in contact."

Maya sat up and looked towards Bulma in disbelief. "Are you being completely serious right now?"

"I wouldn't play around with something like that. Building things is a specialty of mine."

"I can go wherever I want?"

"Yep and meet all sorts of new people. Find something you truly like to do."

Maya's eyes grew wide with excitement, but then looked away as she began to think things over. "But, I wouldn't know where to start. All of you seem to come from far more advanced societies—

"Oh, don't let that deter you! You're still young; you can learn new things."

"But by myself?"

"Come stay with me. I'm a pretty important person where I live and wealthy. I could certainly use the company. Or," she began in a faux secretive tone, "if you asked Ziggurat, he could make arrangements as well." This drew reddened cheeks from Maya. "The point is, you wouldn't be alone. Believe it or not, we're all friends here."

"Even Sephiroth?" Sharon questioned an excited Bulma.

"Even him," Bulma answered looking towards Sharon who was laying on her side again. "Well, Ziggurat is working on him. He's not as dangerous as he makes himself out to be. Trust me, I know the type."

Sharon looked as if she would say something else, but decided against it at the last moment.

"Anyways, just think about it. If there's really nothing to return to back home, start somewhere else anew."

"Bulma…I'll definitely need to think about it," Maya said lying down again.

"Don't worry, there's still a while yet before get it all done. I haven't even starting designing it yet, but I know I'll be able to figure it out. I always do," Bulma said lying back onto the couch she was sitting on. "Do you mind if we crash in your room tonight?"

"By all means. This room is larger than my house back home. I'm definitely not used to all this space to myself."

"Thanks," Bulma said.

"Thank you," Sharon said, "The carpeting is really nice in here."

"I know," Maya said with a sigh, "You should join us down here, Bulma."

"No thanks. I think this couch will do just fine."

"It's all yours," Maya said with a laugh.

Maya could hardly fall asleep. Her mind was ablaze with all the opportunities that had fallen into her lap thanks to Bulma. Could she really leave her home forever? The mere thought sounded exciting beyond belief and also just as scary. She could live in a place she'd never seen before. A whole new world to explore. Her eyes remained wide and opened as her mind began to explore the possibilities.


	19. Experimental Love

"The Unlikely Team"

X-over

 **Sephiroth** : Leader (Final Fantasy VII)—After Advent Children—Height: 6'1 Age: 32

 **Vegeta** : Foil/Ego (Dragon Ball Z)—After Omega Shenron—Height: 5'6 Age: 67

 **Lang** : Arbiter (Legaia 2 Duel Saga)—After End of Game—Height: 5'4 Age: 16

 **Ziggy** : Order (Xenosaga)—After End of Xenosaga III—Height: 6'3 Age: 128

 _Chapter 19: Experimental Love_

 **Sharon looked about the house seeking someone to accompany her on an impromptu picnic.** The idea had come to her mind as she dutifully prepared the usual feast for breakfast. Dazzling sun rays had caught her eye and she immediately thought of going outside to enjoy the scenery.

She hadn't ventured outside since she'd arrived at the condominium so the idea caught fire until she was singularly intent on it. She was sure there was a park somewhere in such a large city. She'd ask around. She prepared quite a bit of food for the outing, assuming she'd find a few people to join her. By midday, however, the place was oddly quiet.

Sharon looked about the house and found empty room after empty room. When she started on the hall with bedrooms, she finally found one occupied just when her hopes were dimming. Against all odds, she found Sephiroth sitting cross-legged on his bed silently reading a hardback. He looked up at her questioningly shortly after she appeared in the doorway.

She paused for a moment as his strange eyes met hers, but words came from her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Would you like to go out on a picnic with me?"

She watched as the other closed his book. "Why not?" he answered her simply.

"R-really?" Sharon asked caught off guard by his response.

Sharon instinctively stayed out of the tall swordsman's way not knowing much about him. He always seemed to keep to himself and it always looked as if he preferred it that way. He'd agreed readily, however, throwing into question her initial fears.

"Unless you're having second thoughts," Sephiroth said interrupting her musing.

"No—I…was just thinking—do you know any good spots?"

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, "I've come across three different nature parks. One that is full of trails that run through substantial woods. Another features a small tranquil pond amidst a thicket. The third park contains a wide, flowing estuary with an expanse of sand and pebbles at its shore unlike the pond. As well, this city holds quite the skyscraper. I've never seen a building so tall. It is easy enough to gain access to the top and it reveals a breathtaking view."

"Those are actually…some great places to visit. The skyscraper sounds nice, but I do get a bit queasy with tall heights. The river you described; it'll feel just like being at an ocean. Do you know if there's a lot of people there?"

"Most people ignore the place entirely which is why I prefer it. There is a larger beach elsewhere that people frequent."

"Hm, didn't tell me about that one."

"I didn't. I only mentioned the ones I would most rather go to."

"Then, the river it is."

"If you like," Sephiroth began as he climbed off the bed, "I can tell you of all the places I've stumbled across."

"I'm all ears," Sharon said with a smile.

She soon went to the kitchen to grab her picnic basket. It was heavy with food and she struggled a bit when she first picked it up. She attempted to hide her discomfort as she stepped outside with the tall swordsman. They didn't get far before Sharon was pleasantly surprised with his offer to carry the basket.

"Thank you," Sharon said graciously.

"Please, don't mention it."

The way he stated it, Sharon wondered if he meant that literally. This little outing would be something she was likely not going to freely speak about. On their way to the river, Sephiroth, true on his word, related to her an exhaustive list of places to visit in the city. Many were quite a distance away and would require a few breaks in between. He must have done a good amount of exploring in the city.

In a word, he was cordial and spoke easily with her. Was this the same man she'd seen at a distance? Something about him was different, but Sharon wasn't complaining.

It took them nearly an hour to reach the site and Sharon was glad to give her legs a rest. Just as Sephiroth had indicated, the entire place was vacant. It was a bit early in the day, but the lack of people was still surprising. She decided on a spot close to the river, but not too close as to get them wet.

"Did you want to try some of the food?"

"Though I'm sure it's quite palatable, I'm not particularly hungry right now."

"Oh, alright," Sharon said despondently.

She had a lot of food and it would not likely all be eaten at this point. She glanced over and saw the other already with a book out reading with singular intent. He sat cross-legged holding the book open in one hand. A light breeze gently played with his loose locks as he sat perfectly still. He was actually quite handsome, she realized, with his fair skin and smooth complexion, almost inhumanly so.

Since he'd been so amicable before, she expected to have a nice conversation with him for a good portion of the day—it was a pastime of hers, though lately she had few to speak with. He was silent now and intent on his book. He turned the page at regular intervals and he was more than halfway through it. She was certain he was enjoying the tale; she didn't want to interrupt. Instead she took out one of the many sandwiches she fixed up. Her eyes rested on the scenery before her.

The waves were light, but constant. The sound of water rushing onto shore was soothing to say the least. It almost sent her into a trance, staring at it for long minutes. When she finally looked back at Sephiroth, he had changed positions significantly. He laid on his stomach now, legs propped up and crossed, and holding the book now in both hands. He seemed completely relaxed now; she smiled at this.

Without saying a word, she took off her shoes and walked out further towards the water. She waited for the waves to splash in again. Eventually, her feet were tickled with the warm, brackish water. Slowly, she made her way across the shore which stretched for miles. She was by herself, but she felt unafraid and oddly free of spirit. She skipped happily for a while and then returned to a leisurely pace.

She wasn't sure how long she walked, but eventually the sandy shore turned to grass and slowly elevated into a rocky cliff. Since she didn't have her shoes on at the moment, she decided to rest at the spot she was. She closed her eyes and felt the constant breeze brush past her. Her curly locks moved subtly. When her eyes were open again, she spied a small, lone crab making its way across the sand towards the water. A few more joined it. Sharon noticed small seashells half hidden by the sand. She had half a mind to dig them up, but decided against it at the last minute.

When she had her fill of the area, she made her way slowly back to the picnic spot. She took her time as her eyes gazed at the passing water. She wasn't sure how long it'd been on her return, but she found Sephiroth sound asleep lying on his back. His book lied closed beside his sheathed sword. She could tell the other was deeply asleep. Not even a horn blown into his ears would wake him.

Her curiosity won out as she crept closer to him and bent her head down, pressing an ear against his chest to better hear his heartbeat. How human was he? Did he exhibit a human's usual heart rate?

His heart beat at a rate just fast enough for a human. Any slower would have been concerning even for someone at rest. It reminded her of Jan, the man who now preferred to be called "Ziggurat". She closed her eyes tightly to hold back the inevitable tears.

On the first day they'd officially met, she'd found herself entangled with him and completely in his warmth upon his bed. It had been enough to simply be near him. As a medical doctor, she could immediately see signs of insomnia—tired eyes and constant bouts of headaches. He wouldn't outwardly complain, but he was forever closing his eyes and placing two fingers upon his nose. He sighed far too much, clearly despondent. On that first night, he'd slept so deeply that it was near impossible to wake him the next morning short of vigorously shaking him, but she decided not to. Despite the urgency of his job and that he received dozens of texts and calls even throughout the night, she let him rest since she knew he sorely needed it. His phone rang so incessantly that she began to answer them to tell them all that her Jan would not be available for the time being and to contact him tomorrow.

It'd been hilarious how surprised many had gotten to be answered by a woman's voice. She supposed the cat was out of the bag quite immediately that Jan was seeing someone. It became obvious to her that he was a loner as well, but she suspected it wasn't because he disliked associating himself with others.

He admitted later that he hadn't slept like that in quite some time. Sharon liked to think it was her presence that helped him. After that, if he wasn't completely occupied with the case, they would sleep together whether it be his small apartment or her house.

Those memories of closeness weren't so poignant as they were at this moment. Before she could wet Sephiroth's clothing, she sat up with the swordsman none the wiser. He continued to sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, she decided to take a dip in the warm water to clear her mind. She stripped to bareness and entered the water that was only a few yards from them. The water was soothing and she swam in it for a while going under and above multiple times. It was great exercise; she hadn't exerted herself like that for a while.

When she climbed out of the water in all her stark nakedness, she realized with startling surprise that Sephiroth was awake. His eyes perused her body unabashedly, but it was not a lustful gaze; it was one of pure curiosity. That fact did wonders for her initial embarrassment and soon his eyes returned to her face.

"You look exquisite," he said not in reverence, but as a matter of fact.

Sharon couldn't help but smile at his comment as she sat down; the picnic basket separated them. "That's something every woman wants to hear from someone so handsome."

She had to wait to put her clothes on again as she was wet, but on account of her company, she didn't feel too uncomfortable doing it.

"Why is that?" Sephiroth questioned.

Sharon laughed at this, "You must not know much about women."

Sephiroth looked towards the river at this. "I was a member of a privately owned military and I was trained in all manner of combat from an early age—it was a lifelong pursuit and women did not play a big part."

"You were trained at a young age? That sounds awful!" Sharon said.

Sephiroth appeared taken aback by her response. "What do you mean?"

"All that violence taught to someone so young and impressionable? You must have been desensitized pretty quickly."

"It was all a game to me, nothing to take seriously until I saw real combat. I take it that's not the norm in your society."

"There's still the military, but you're not eligible for combat training until you're considered an adult. Our worlds are different."

"Perhaps you come from one more developed. Were it that our society was more stable; there would be less war and less orphans."

"My world is nothing to brag about. If a man as pure as Jan can be made to suffer as much as he has, it still has its problems. Ones that are not easily solved."

"Ziggurat—he was human before and went by another name. How is it that he ended up a cyborg? Was it punishment?"

"No," Sharon said closing her eyes once again to hold back tears. "It was because I failed him. I abandoned him when he needed me the most." When she opened her eyes again, tears spilled from her eyelashes. Her eyebrows furrowed as the hot tears touched her face. Her voice was still steady. "Elrich Weber, one of Jan's subordinates turned out to be the culprit, the one who'd been on a crazed murdering spree the entire time. Sometimes I wonder if I was too much of a distraction for him. Jan's usually so good at reading people yet he didn't suspect Elrich until it was too late.

"Voyager, Weber's alter ego, promised me my deepest desires, that I could see my first husband again—he died in the line of duty—that Jan wouldn't have to suffer anymore, that we could all live happily. I accepted his price. He stated it as if I would be entering paradise. Deep down, somewhere very deep, I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it was only a metaphor. Until now, I hadn't known Jan had been there to see it happen.

"He'd no longer had a family until he met me and my son and now…I think that was the day he lost the will to live. When I see him now…" She looked away for a moment and then continued.

"His body was donated for science. It was at an inopportune time. He'd requested it to be that way. As he saw it, he would have no more use for his body and leaving it to rot in some coffin would be a waste of space and time. Donating to science would be a worthy cause. But not everything about science is beneficial to society. Unfortunately, cyborg technology was in its infancy and quite popular. A lot of inhumane experiments went on during that time unnoticed by the public and unregulated. With that technology, he was brought back to life against his will." Sharon ran a hand across her eyes to dry them. "Sometimes I wonder if he hasn't thought of doing something…stupid. I begged Bulma not to give him so much freedom, that he might not be ready for it, but of course she didn't listen. She doesn't know Jan like I do. I try to watch him closely…"

"He should be free to do as he chooses," Sephiroth said not looking the other in the eye.

"Easy for all of you to say. You won't be satisfied until he's taken his own life. Sorry—I didn't mean to say that—"

"I won't let that happen," Sephiroth cut across her.

Sharon tried to look directly at him and this time he returned her gaze. She saw determination there much to her surprise.

"Why do you care?" she asked quietly. Her mind could not wrap around the fact that the other seemed concerned.

"I don't…entirely know," he admitted after a long pause. His eyes had returned to the river. "But I won't allow that to happen. No matter what."

"When you say it like that, it makes me think you'll really be looking out for him. I'm so relieved to hear it. I'm not the only one."

"As a team, we should all look out for one another."

Sharon grinned at this. "Excuse me for saying this, but your group doesn't exactly seem that way at all."

"Hm, well, we're working on it."

Sharon took a moment and lifted up the lid to the basket she'd brought and noticed that a little over a half of it had been consumed. She looked up at the other with a grin.

"What's this? Have I discovered your deep, dark secret—you have a healthy appetite after all?" she teased the other.

"It's not a secret per sé," he said with a small grin of his own. "When I first met Vegeta, let's just say he was quite aggressive, recklessly so—enough to give me pause. I noticed his excessive appetite afterwards and thought there might be some correlation. Not having enough sustenance does something to his mental state and I've come to realize that it's likely not overreacting on his part. He's weaker and not nearly as helpful if he's more focused on finding food than anything else. And sure, that could describe anyone who happens to need food, but these affects are immediate and noticeable. None of it made sense to me, at first. How could an entire race of beings who seemingly possessed bodies that couldn't process food very well or at least store some energy survive for very long?

"That was until I saw what he was truly capable of—that brief moment back at that village near the ocean when I could glimpse the kind of destructive energy that he possessed. This world merely controls one's ability to access their full potential, I doubt it affects one at the molecular level. All that energy that he must possess may not be used, but it is still there and it must be maintained—it doesn't seem as if it's something that can be turned on and off. Contained in a humanoid form, that sort of energy would tear most people apart yet he is quite functional. Though at first it seems like his body has trouble storing energy it is likely the exact opposite.

"That is just a longwinded way of saying that Vegeta's food requirement is far more important than the rest of us. Skipping meals is probably detrimental to his wellbeing, mentally and physically. And," he said with a sigh, "dealing with a pissed off Vegeta is headache inducing. But he's not here and I will have my fill."

Sharon was surprised at his explanation. It was all news to her, but Vegeta did seem to eat an inhumanly large quantity of food each day. She hardly questioned it after the first day—maybe he just worked out a lot, but apparently that wasn't the full answer. "Sephiroth, are you saying you cutback just to accommodate Vegeta? That was really nice of you."

"No," he said shaking his head slowly, "I wanted to be the one in charge and I wanted the one who very nearly killed me in a fight to be more agreeable. I was only looking out for myself."

"And now? You know if you asked, I could make a bit more for you."

"Purely out of habit. We won't have the luxury of a fully stocked kitchen forever. Veil still has designs for us."

Sharon began pulling her clothes back on when she noticed she'd finally dried off. She glanced over at the other every once in a while and he politely kept his eyes elsewhere.

"Well," she said as she settled back down again, "All in all, I think today was quite good—and you got to finish that book of yours."

He picked up the closed book at the mention of it and showed her the cover of it. _Wild Rover No More_ she read on the cover of it. Then in smaller text it read _Being the Last Recorded Account of the Life and Times of Jacky Faber_. The author's name, L.A. Meyer, was placed at the bottom of the cover. On it was the image of a woman dressed in a bonnet and gown-like dress standing near a noose and an ominous white hooded figure in a gray robe stood behind her. Clearly there was an eager audience below waiting to see the show. The woman was likely about to be hanged.

"Geez, that looks really depressing! Is that the kind of stories you like?"

"It is a bit depressing, far more than the other stories preceding it. I suppose it says something to Meyer's state of mind while writing it. It's the last of a twelve-part series. It's also the last one that will ever be written by the author as he died soon after it was published. I suppose it was a fitting end, but there certainly could have been more."

"Twelve parts?" Sharon asked incredulously, "I'm not sure I'd have the patience."

"When you find a story you like, twelve parts seems almost too short. I've been guiltily absorbed with it for quite some time. Now I suppose, I can finally move on with my life."

Sharon laughed at this. "Maybe I should give it try."

"Only if you're willing to forfeit hours upon hours of your life."

"Well…" Sharon said drawing out the word.

Sephiroth was climbing to his feet then and brushing off the sand that had gotten on his clothes. "It's getting a bit late—we should head back before people start thinking the worst of you and me missing for a long period of time.

* * *

 **Lang hadn't seen Sephiroth all day and by the end of it, he was finally able to admit that it did actually bother him.** After he stepped into the house late in the evening a bit after dusk, he sought out the kitten which he had not given a name to as of yet. It had slipped his mind once again. When he couldn't find the kitten in his usual place in the sunroom, that was when he really began to feel pissed. The kitten was something he alone had found yet he felt as if he spent the least time with it.

Ziggurat and Bulma had been in the living room again as usual though it was getting quite late even for them. He half expected the kitten to be there with the cyborg, but the kitten was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, have you seen the kitten?" Lang asked interrupting the two.

"I saw him heading towards the hallway," Ziggurat answered nonchalantly.

"When are you going to name him?" Bulma said with clear annoyance in her tone. "I'm getting tired of saying 'the kitten' or 'he' or worse 'it'."

"I just…haven't thought about it."

"Well, start thinking or else I'll name him myself," she threatened.

Lang crossed his arms defensively at this, but Ziggurat spoke before he could.

"Give him some time," Ziggurat said in his infuriatingly calm tone, "There's no rush. Names aren't the easiest things to come up with."

Lang sighed exasperatedly at this, "I'll think of one soon, alright?"

With this he left them to their devices as he suddenly no longer wanted to be in Ziggurat's calming presence. As he stepped into the hall, he noticed, first of all, that Sephiroth's door was closed—which wasn't a huge surprise, but he noticed it anyhow. Then he saw that Vegeta's door was open. His door usually was open if Bulma wasn't there and she clearly wasn't. Vegeta obviously wasn't the one who bothered with opening and closing doors because despite the easy access to his room, he occupied it and he was asleep. Lang could tell from the snores, ones that were not overly loud but audible nonetheless. As he peered in, however, he noticed a suspicious kitten-like form near him.

Lang flicked on the light to the room when curiosity got the better of him. The small snow white kitten stood out from Vegeta's usual dark garb. The Saiyan was turned on his side and the kitten had curled up against him. Despite himself, he did not want to disturb the scene for fear of waking up either of them and Lang imagined the Saiyan probably didn't like his sleep interrupted. With another sigh, he left them to their devices.

Grudgingly he turned, deciding it was a better idea to find what he could for dinner and then call it a day. When he passed the living room once again, he was stopped by Bulma.

"Did you find him?" she asked simply.

"Yeah, in Vegeta's room—in bed with him."

Bulma laughed at this. "Scratch does that sometimes too. You know cats like warm places and Vegeta is practically a furnace. It's probably warmer than those blankets we set up."

"Thanks…I'll keep that in mind," Lang said with feigned interest.

He just wanted to get to the kitchen at this point. Once there, he found what looked to be burger and fries sitting out for him. It must have been made after Vegeta had turned in for the day or else it would likely not be there at all. There were a few buns set out along with other ingredients he could add to make it quite a luxurious burger. The food was a bit cold, but Lang could care less. After he had his fill, he went to his room leaving his door open thinking for whatever reason that the kitten might deign to grace his appearance on his bed. It never happened, but Lang couldn't help but hope.

He couldn't sleep for some reason though it was hardly something he wasn't used to. Soon after arriving in the condo with everyone, sleep was something he avoided for quite some time after being forcefully put to sleep by some potion Bulma had concocted. He'd had haunting dreams throughout and they had been inescapable. He couldn't tell anyone because he feared they wouldn't understand. They already thought he was a little off his rocker that evening before when he became overly worried about Sephiroth and he did not want to go through trying to explain himself once again. After a few days passed, however, he became at ease with his surroundings noting the innumerable differences between this and his dreamed up reality. Since, he had no issues sleeping. But tonight was different.

He heard as Bulma passed his door probably to join Vegeta and the glow on the wall further out from his room that came from the living room was turned off. It was completely dark in the place aside from the light coming from the bathroom in the hallway that was always kept on so that one wouldn't be stumbling through the dark at night.

He might have fallen asleep sometime after, but he couldn't be sure as his ears heard more disturbance out in the hall way. Curious, he climbed out of bed and peered out of his room to see what was happening. A figure stood there, immediately sending chills down his back.

"Wh-who's there?" Lang asked.

He heard a gasp from a clearly caught off guard woman.

"Lang? What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

He quickly knew the voice to be that of Sharon and he drew a sigh of relief soon after. "I could ask you the same question," he said stepping completely out of his room.

The glow of the bathroom light allowed for her form to be a bit more visible and his eyes slowly adjusted. His eyes grew wide at Sharon's undressed state.

"Like what you see?" Sharon asked in a teasing tone with hands on her hips, "Are you done gawking already?"

Lang just then noticed as his eyes looked beside her that she was standing in front of Sephiroth's bedroom. His mind immediately jumped to conclusions, but he stopped himself when he reminded himself that it could all be a coincidence.

"Umm…s-sorry," he said looking away now, "But are you gonna tell me why you're walking around like that?"

"Hmmm…let me see: No. Go back to bed already. Pretend you didn't see a thing."

"Pretend I didn't see anything? You can't just go around scaring people like that."

"Scaring?" she said with a soft laugh. "I doubt it."

Just then the door beside her opened and Lang's eyes opened even wider—if that was even possible—when Sephiroth's tall form emerged partially. He was clearly looking in Lang's direction. Lang could see that the other was lacking a shirt…

"Stop giving the lady a hard time and go back to bed already," Sephiroth said in a dark tone that dared him to do otherwise.

That was all the provocation Lang needed to disappear back into his room and close the door at that. He didn't understand or maybe he was lying to himself when he thought that, but tears began to well up in his eyes. He pressed his face against the pillow and let them flow to his heart's content.


End file.
